Social Sundae
by the bauble
Summary: Six very different people are semi-voluntarily stuck in the same condo for the foreseeable future. The victims of Rory Hawthorne's social experiment are in for one rollercoaster of a ride, that's for sure. - KP MG AF, Definitely AU.
1. Candidly Speaking

**Warnings;** Mainly swearing. There is potential for the characters not to be themselves (also known as oh-oh-see), mostly do to the fact that this is my first time writing for this lovely cast. Some liberties have also been taken due to the fact that this is very much an alternate universe (also known as the modern one, at least relatively) and so if you wonder why I've done something with a particular character, it should get explained in the text. Eventually. Hopefully. Also, I do not have a beta. I do proofread several times, but if you catch something I missed please point it out.

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Social Sundae

I

Candidly Speaking (We're In Trouble Now, Folks)

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[Gale]

"You've got to be kidding me."

My brother is a geek. Not the kind that thinks he's a ninja and spends hours fawning over his Star Wars figurine collection (thank God), but the science-loving, tape-around-the-glasses kind of geek.

Not that he actually wears glasses. But if he did, they would definitely be oversized and have that tell-tale whiteness on the nosepiece.

He has a pencil tucked behind his ear as he dips a chalky stick-thing into some foaming yellow liquid in a beaker. His tilted goggles, heavy duty gloves, and camouflage-printed lab coat tell me that it isn't a fun chemical margarita he's mixing up, but something potentially more dangerous.

It is almost amazing how he can concentrate so hard and still needle me.

"C'mon Gale, it'd be real interesting. It even might be fun for you."

Look, Rory's my brother, and I stick up for him. That being said, I'm not usually one to go along with his hair-brained plans for "the sake of science". Usually because they involve me doing something ridiculous, like being dyed funny colors to become a human litmus test or being propped into a handstand to calculate the various shades of colors I turn as the blood rushes to my head in relation to gravity. Or something. I've never actually given in to his pleading…

So why he expects me to this time is beyond me.

"Because I don't have better things to do."

"Evidently your sarcastic side has forgotten that summer is almost here. Once you graduate next week your life will be open to all sorts of new adventures. "

"I don't connect the word 'adventure' with 'being locked up with a bunch of loony science people for practically forever', believe it or not. Do you want to know words I do think of?"

Rory, still obviously avoiding eye contact as he scribbles something down on a notepad, merely raises his eyebrows.

"Ridiculous. Dumb. Waste of time." I'm kind of enjoying myself, with all this sneering at him. Yeah, I know I said I stick up for him, but that's only when defending him against other people, not when he talks down to me.

"That last one's a phrase, not a single word. Unless you meant them all separately. Which makes astoundingly little sense, even for you." Speaking of talking down…

"Whatever. Look, I just came down to your mad science lab to tell you that mom says dinner's going to be ready in fifteen." One time, he didn't show up for dinner until twenty minutes after we finished eating. Ever since then someone always gives him an obligatory heads up so he can clean up whatever mess he's making in the basement/Frankenstein torture lounge.

I turn and hurry to and up the stairs, eager to get out. But before I can open the door and step into normalcy, Rory calls out something that flips my summer plans upside down.

"Katniss says she's in."

Well, shit.

ss

Katniss Everdeen is my best friend, and has been for just about all of high school. We met at orientation, when they broke us up into groups to play stupid games to break the ice. Frankly, I didn't give a damn if the ice even had a crack by the end of the thing, so I said as few words as possible the entire time. That was also Katniss' strategy, and for some reason, we bonded over barely saying anything.

Bam! Instant friendship.

Well, instant isn't exactly the right word, but the point is we are now best friends, two kids who stay away from dumb shit.

So of course I'm baffled through dinner and during karaoke with Posy and getting ready for bed and then, in bed at last, by what Rory said. I know he didn't lie to me, because he's aware that I'll talk about it with Katniss first chance I get, and then the cat would be out of the bag and I would be out of his little project.

And that leaves me wondering, why the hell did she say yes to Rory? Overwhelmed by temptation, I pull my phone off the floor and dial her number.

I hear her breathing into the phone for a second or two, till finally -_"Gale?"_ Okay, so she isn't asleep yet.

"Yeah."

"_What's up?" _

"...Did Rory talk to you about his _thing?_"

There's a significant pause. _"Yes, I said I'd do it, no, I'm not crazy, I've got nothing better to do.."_

And he looked so excited that she didn't want to say no to him. The problem with the two of us being so close is that she has a really large soft spot for my family, particularly when it's a really. Bad. idea.

I don't tell her that he's using her as a method of manipulation, using her to get to me. She probably knows already.

After a long silence, I hear Katniss sigh. _"You know, I'm not going to try and talk you_ _into it. I really don't care what you do, Gale." _Liar. I know she cares.

"…Okay, I just wanted to see if what Rory said was true."

"_Okay."_

"…Well, 'night."

"_Goodnight, Gale."_ I hear the click of her hanging up, and then the dial tone. I stare at the phone in my hand for a moment, kind of shocked. I had half expected her to say that she's sorry.

But no. Katniss never apologizes, not if she doesn't really mean it.

ss

Thursday night my mom's fiddling over last minute alterations on my nice black pants, insisting I've grown again since the last time I tried them on. But since that was last week, I don't really think that's possible. I don't tell her that, though; I just let her fret.

"I can't believe you're graduating." She's been silent for most of the night, so I nearly jump and poke myself with her pins when she speaks.

"Mom, it'll be fine. I'm still your little boy," I say as I cringe, thinking she's going to start crying again.

"You haven't been a little boy since you started working at Vons," she sniffles. "And now you're off to college-"

"SDSU is an hour from here, if that. And there's always phones, mom. You can call me."

The look she gives me is kind of funny, but not so much that I don't realize that it says she doesn't believe me. "As if I can tell you're okay over the _phone. _I know you Gale; you'll lie just to set me at ease."

Okay, well that is true, but whatever. She gets up off of her knees and gives me a hug around the middle.

"Mom… I think the pants are fine."

She sniffles again, but before she can reply there's a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" cries Vick, and he rushes to open the door before anyone else can beat him to it. "Oh… hi Katniss." She walks in and Vick shuts the door behind her before promptly running down the hall to the bedroom he shares with Rory. I think he's blushing, and I want to laugh because I remember being a sixth grade boy, too.

"Katniss, what bring you here at such a late hour?" I have a feeling mom's glancing between the two of us, as if she's trying to see something. The slight scowl and flush spreading across Katniss' face tells me that I'm more right than I think.

She quickly glances at the floor and then back up again, probably embarrassed. "Oh, my mom just wanted me to bring this by for Posy; I guess she's not been feeling well?" I realize a bit belatedly that there's a brown paper bag in her hands as she holds it out, only a little awkward. But that's Katniss for you.

"Oh, thank you so much, Katniss!" My mother immediately accepts the bag. "I'm going to give some of this to her right now; I haven't had the chance to get to the store tonight, and the poor girl's been so ill." She walks out of the room and is almost out of sight when she turns and says "You're welcome to something to drink, my dear; I'm sure you walked. Gale, help her find something." And then she's gone.

"C'mon Catnip." She rolls her eyes a little at the nickname but follows me into the kitchen. "I don't know what she meant about finding you something to drink, 'cause there's only one option at the moment."

I hand her a cup and she fills it with water from the outside of the fridge. It seems to take forever to get to however much Katniss wants, and for a moment we're just standing there as we listen to the sound of water rising in the glass.

"So… big day tomorrow." Katniss' gaze is flicking from the cup to me as she speaks.

"Not as big as everyone seems to be making it out to be, I think." She almost smirks then.

"The whole family going crazy, or just your mom?"

"Mom mostly, but Vick seems to think it's a big deal." I shrug. The glass is over half-full now; she pulls it away and takes a sip.

"Prim's not. She seems to be really happy." She scowls then, and I know what she means – Prim is acting too happy.

"Well, you've only got Prim to worry about," I mutter. "Leaving my mom alone with crazy Rory, Vick, and little Posy?" I shudder.

She doesn't say anything, but isn't quite meeting my eyes. Damn. _Screwed up again, Hawthorne. _Neither of us knows what to say after that.

Finally, she places her glass on the counter and gives me a small smile. "I should probably get going. Mom wants me back sooner rather than later."

"Sure, Catnip." I go to walk her out, like always. She frowns like she always seems to now, when she's about to tell me bye. I kind of wonder if she's always thinking about the same thing, and if she is then what it is exactly that's on her mind.

"Bye, Gale. See you tomorrow."

"Bye."

I watch her walk down the path and out of my line of sight, and then I shut the door. I don't allow myself to be pathetic and bang my head against the wall, but I really, really want to. Because recently I've started realizing that Katniss will probably never be "just a friend" to me again.

ss

Okay, so I really don't get why graduation's that big of a deal. It's just saying that these kids in dorky church robes and table hats passed the minimum requirements necessary for getting by in life. And maybe parents sob over this stuff, but for the kids who it's supposedly all about – y'know, us – it's just plain boring. My lower half went numb waiting so long while pretending to watch people I don't even really care about receive diplomas, and I'm only "H". When it's my turn to go up and shake hands with fifty people, grab my diploma and smile for a billion pictures, I don't feel any different at all.

Well, blinded maybe, but that's about it. Because that's exactly what they're aiming for with all the hype, I'm sure.

When I sit back down again I try to be patient, but there's still over half the alphabet left. They announce our class at long last, and I only feel a little excited tossing my cap into the air.

Then it's hugs and photos with family and my few friends. After, I do a quick change to get ready for the party a bunch of senior parents put together for the class every year. It's kind of rinky-dink, but I've heard they have decent food, so I'm up for it.

The gym's covered out in streamers, lights, and other party decorations. It kind of looks like the prom committee threw up, but I head over to refreshments to grab something fizzy to drink.

"Getting drunk already?" I turn and see Katniss in a sparkly black dress. She shrugs at my examination, muttering something that's probably about her mom and Prim. I decide not to say anything for once and laugh instead.

"Of course. Because the whole purpose of this party is to keep a couple hundred recent graduates from getting their hands on alcohol."

Katniss smirks. "Yeah, like one party is going to stop them."

The rest of the night goes okay. The DJ plays mostly rap music, but that's not a surprise. Some volleyball girls try to get Katniss to volunteer to be hypnotized by the magician, and of course she turns them down.

When it's about three in the morning Katniss and I head out, even though there's still an hour or two left at the party. I'm surprised we even stayed that long, but there had been so much to do or be entertained by that both of us didn't even notice the clock. _Damn, those scheming parents are good. _

Katniss lives closer to the school, so she leaves first. I tell her goodbye and she mutters a slightly sardonic congrats before unlocking the door and stepping inside. Then it's just me.

By the time I get to my house it's pretty safe to say I'm not all in my head anymore. Exhaustion has taken over, and it's instinct that gets me inside, in my bedroom, and under the covers. I take a swig of the water bottle I always leave by my bedside, and then turn out the light.

I don't dream. And when I wake up I realize I must have been out for a really long time, because when I open my eyes the first thing I notice is that, based on the lighting of my room, the sun is setting. The second thing I notice is that the beige walls are definitely not my gray ones, meaning that this is not my room. The third thing I realize, rather belatedly, is that there is a face looking down at me.

"Well hello!" says the idiot over me. "Rory sure did put you out for a long time."

_Rory, _I think. Suddenly, it all becomes clear. _Shit. _

That kid is dead.

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**Hello! **Just a few words from me, which you can absolutely skip over if you feel so inclined. But basically I'm a little nervous posting in the HG fandom for the first time, but this idea was a little too delicious for me to abandon. Delicious... get it? (Social Sundae, ahahaha. This is your cue to laugh.) So this is me just saying hi, I guess. Review if the idea tickles you in the fun way and not in the obnoxious "what are you doing in my personal space?" way, no pressure because when authors go on rampages about reviews it leaves me a teensy bit upset cause I'm a teensy bit shy. The end. For now. c:


	2. I Must Hope

**Warnings; **Not much really. A mention or two of blood and few swear words, if that.

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Social Sundae

II

I Must Hope (The Tide Won't Take Me)

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[Annie]

The wind on the beach plays with my hair. The sand feels good between my toes, better than the sun's warmth, even.

"Oh!" There aren't nearly during this time of day as there are in the early morning; they are usually broken from being stepped on so much, or taken by tourists and avid shell collectors. And yet, there is one clearly in front of my eyes, nestled in the sand like a baby in a cradle. I smile and pick it up, tucking it in the pocket of my thin sweatshirt.

It's a good day.

But, I realize as I look at the sun getting closer to the horizon and then at my watch for confirmation, it is also a _late _day. I have to be home soon, for dinner. I'm not sure what we're having, but I _am_ sure it'll be divine. It only takes fifteen minutes or so to walk home, and I have a bit more time than that, so I don't have to rush.

I don't like to rush, so this is a good thing.

I walk up the steps to the parking area that hugs the drop off to the beach and remove my sandals, needing to shake the sand out of them so my mom won't get mad. She doesn't get upset often, but it isn't nice when she does.

The sand makes a little shower as a brush it off my shoes, then again as I do the same to my feet and slip on my sandals one at a time. Then I begin my walk home. On the way I see a flower and pick it. The smell is lovely, so I keep it in my hand for the rest of the way, taking an occasional sniff when I feel like it. But soon only a few driveways separate me and my house, and I slip the flower in someone's mail box. I hope they find while it still smells nice.

As I walk up the pathway to my front door I observe the budding flowers growing alongside the concrete; my mom and I planted them a week or two after we moved here, which was a few months ago now. We never did it before, and while I know why we do it now I don't like to think about it.

So I think about the growing flowers instead; I wonder what colors they will be.

I walk inside the house and slip off my shoes. "Mom, Dad, I'm home!" I call out, knowing they'll hear me. They always do.

"Annie!" It's my dad. He looks up from a book he's reading. The television is on, but the volume is low so I doubt he's actually watching it. "How was your walk?"

I take a seat next to him on the couch and tuck my feet underneath my legs so that my backside is resting slightly on top of them.

"It was good," I say as I lean my head on his shoulder, looking at the title of the book printed on the top of each left-hand page. It's obviously something about politics, but I don't know the author and don't really care. "I found a shell to add to my collection."

He sticks out his hand and I reach into my pocket, grasp the shell, and place it gently on his palm. He pushes his glasses down his nose and observes it closely, as if he knows something about shells. He doesn't.

"Dad!" I give him a small nudge in the arm with my elbow. A laugh escapes me and then he laughs, too. He presses a kiss to the side of my face.

"I'm just playing, Annie." He makes it sound as if I don't know; I frown and he gives me back my shell.

"I know." I close my hand around the small object.

"Why don't you go set the table? I barbequed the chicken and everything, but your mom still seems to be in a bit of a frenzy." A roll of his eyes tells me there's no reason for this, but I've already guessed that. So I just nod and get up. I go to the kitchen to pick up the plates and other stuff for the table, and since there's only the three of us it isn't that hard.

The dining room table is covered with a pretty white and green tablecloth, and it makes me smile. "Hello, Annie dear." Mom is carrying a platter of grilled chicken, way too much for just the three of us. She sets it on the table and then goes back to the kitchen to get the rest of the food. While she's gone I put down all the plates, napkins, cutlery, and glasses. "Thank you for setting the table, Annie." She places some corn on the table and then presses a kiss to the top of my head. This time I return to the kitchen with her to pick up the rest of the food.

"It's time for dinner Henry!" He appears not a whole minute after he's called. We all take our places and begin to eat.

"So Annie," begins mom. "A boy stopped by while you were out. Rory Hawthorne, he said his name was."

"Did he drop something off for me?" I ask, though I already know he did. He told me yesterday on the phone that he would, and I trust Rory Hawthorne.

"Yes, I put it in your room." She appears puzzled; I guess she didn't look. But I imagine, hope, that she knows what's inside.

It's quiet again, for a little while at least, while we eat some more.

"Annie…" She looks tentative. So she does know. "You are going through with this? It sounds dangerous."

"I told him I would," I say, placing my fork on my plate as quietly as possible. "I don't like to break my promises." I really, really don't like it…

"Are you sure, though?" Worry colors every word. "He would understand if you said that you changed your mind."

"That was never the question." Dad hasn't said a word this whole time. He still doesn't. I take a few more bites, but the colors of the food are swirling in my mind now, suddenly unappetizing. "I'm done."

"Finish your food, Annie."

"I'm not hungry."

"Annie-"

"Just let her go, Jane." My father sounds resigned. I'm glad that he's convincing mom to be resigned, too.

"I'm only going to go look at what Rory dropped by." I also know I'm going to drink it and escape my loving, controlling parents.

I'm halfway up the stairs when dad calls out rather softly, "We love you Annie."

"I love you too." I honestly do. But sometimes, I've learned, I should love at a distance; in a few short minutes that distance will finally be achieved.

Once I'm in my room I take a look at the package on my bed. It's a box. I open it, and inside is a water bottle.

Rory told me that I'm the only one who knows that it is today that it begins; he said all things considered, I deserved to know. I knew what he meant just as I knew I didn't want special treatment; but it was too late then just like it's too late now. I couldn't back out if I so desired. But I don't.

I pick up the water bottle and smile at it; there's a note around the neck that says to 'drink three sips.' I will do so as soon as I settle a few things. I brush my teeth. I wonder if I should change and decide against it. I also decide against taking a shower; there will be one where I am going, after all. I also like smelling of the sea.

The sun is still out, and so I close my draperies. It's not completely dark, but at least the light is muted. _It's just like going to sleep. _I know it's more than that, but for now I can pretend. _Pr_e_tend. That sounds nice. _I get in bed and take the water bottle, looking at the tag around the neck once more.

Feeling a little like Alice, I unscrew the cap and take three sips. The cap goes on just as easily as it came off and I place the bottle on my bedside table. As I lay my head on my pillow I decide at the last second to retrieve my shell from the pocket of my sweatshirt and hold it in my hand. It's quite comforting.

At last I close my eyes, and let myself fall into wonderland.

ss

Sunlight wakes me. It's daytime, the day after I fell asleep of course. The room is not my own, and I immediately know that I am here. _The _here, as if there were any other. I sit up and look around; there are three beds in the room and I am in one of them. Each bed has a different color comforter; mine is a bright teal. It's not perfect, not _me,_ but it could be the pale pink on the bed to my right. That would be worse. I don't dislike pink, but I do not find it a nice color for bedrooms.

There is another bed on the far side of the pink bed, one with a silvery gray comforter. The girl in it is covered by a giant mass of dark hair, lying all over the place. I do not know her. I don't know the blonde girl in the pink bed either; I guess we are all strangers.

There is a door on the other side of the room, and one by the bed farthest away from me. And then one… not really near anything, really. One probably leads to the outside and another… a closet? I can't guess what the last one is. And then I feel an urgency of nature, and I can suddenly imagine what lies beyond the third door.

I get up and approach the door on the other side of the room; I take all the care I can muster when turning the handle and pulling the door open so as to not make any noise and wake the other girls. No one likes to be woken up when they're not supposed to, and I don't want to ruin their sleep.

A look into the room confirms it's what I need. I quickly use the restroom and then head back to my bed and sit down. I'm cross-legged for a few moments before I decide to slip my legs underneath the covers once again. _Tick-tock_, the clock on the wall says, and I'm comforted a little by it.

_Wait, comforted? _I think, not very happy with that thought. _I'm not scared. _It repeats over and over in my head; in the background of the loud thought I try to figure out why I would be frightened at all.

_The unknown. _I don't like that as an answer any more than I like the idea of needing comfort in the first place. I can stand on my own two feet plenty fine. Properly, even, without any help at all.

Before I can continue on this train of thought and think it through the way I might have liked, I hear a groan that definitely doesn't come from me. It's to my right, and an idea pops into my head. Someone else has woken up!

I slowly turn and see the girl with dark hair shifting in her bed. Suddenly excitement floods me, and I really want to go see her, to talk to her, but I restrain myself. Startling her would be a bad idea.

She groans again and I can't quite see from my spot, but I'm pretty sure she's opening her eyes. In only a few seconds she's sitting up, her head going from one side to the other and then locking her gaze onto mine.

"Hi," I greet her, speaking softly so I don't wake the other girl. I hope she can hear. "I'm Annie, and I don't know if you realized yet, but we're in Rory Hawthorne's school project."

I get up and quickly cross the room, deciding to sit on the edge of her bed. She looks baffled for a moment, and then it looks like she understands, though she doesn't seem very happy about it.

"Rory. Right." I nod, though I don't quite understand her tone. She did sign up for this, didn't she? "I didn't know he was going to drug me." She looks at her hands for several moments and is silent the whole time. I just wait.

Finally she sighs and lifts her face to meet my eyes. "I'm Katniss." Resigned now, she shrugs. "I guess the whole purpose of drugging us was to make sure we don't know our location."

"That's what I thought, too," I say as I nod in agreement.

"And we probably can't go outside the house, even into the backyard, if he thought we would leave."

"I wouldn't know. I haven't even left the room yet." Her baffled look returns, so I begin to explain. "I thought it would be best to wait to try until all of us were up, just in case one of you didn't know where we are and… got upset."

Katniss scowls a little and it's kind of funny but also a little upsetting. Then she swings her legs out over the side of the bed and approaches the blonde girl, whose still obviously sleeping.

"Maybe I know her," says Katniss.

"Maybe you do," I agree brightly. Considering I moved to the area recently I think all the faces in this place will be foreign to me, but they could be familiar to Katniss.

She carefully pushes back hair from the girl's face. Her scowl, which had faded a little, comes back deeper.

"It's harder to tell when people are sleeping… but she looks familiar." An upset noise escapes her as fast air that reminds me of quick gusts of wind. "I wish I could tell."

"Did you expect to know everyone here?" I ask, wondering why she would think such a thing.

"I don't know."

We don't talk a lot after that, but it's okay with me. I'm the one who took her sedative willingly last night, where Rory probably slipped Katniss' into her drink somehow. I imagine he did everyone else the same way. She had no way of knowing that it was today; she's probably bitter…

_Ticktockticktockticktock. _The seconds blur together, and I feel myself moving in rhythm with them, swaying side to side with each click of the second hand. Katniss is looking at her hands again, and I wonder what she sees when she does. My own are open to me, as if they might tell secrets. I examine my open palms and see nothing out of the ordinary, nothing but a scar on my left one that goes from the inside of the knuckle of my index finger to the opposite side of my wrist. I shudder, and turn my palms towards each other and clasp my hands together.

"What the hell…" It's a groggy voice that belongs neither to me nor to Katniss. The blonde girl is struggling to untangle herself from her covers and, I think, her hair.

"I feel like I've been mauled. Though God only knows by what." She finally breaks free and sits up; I turn my body to face her fully, though I'm still sitting on Katniss' bed.

"A grizzly bear?" Katniss supplies. I kind of expect the girl to snap and I flinch a little, but she does the opposite.

"Katniss?" She sounds surprised and pleased.

"Madge?" I guess Katniss does know her after all. That's nice for Katniss, considering it doesn't seem like she wants to be here. But Katniss doesn't appear to know what to do now, after recognizing the girl. _Madge_, I remind myself. Luckily Madge decides for the both of them; she slowly stands and the next thing I know Madge is wrapping her arms around Katniss in a careful hug. I can't imagine why Katniss needs a hug that's careful, except maybe she doesn't like them.

They're quiet for a little bit, and after the first few seconds of watching them hug I look away. When I return my eyes to them they're separated and all three of us are now sitting on Katniss' bed. I turn to the middle and cross my legs over each other again into a pretzel.

"How do you know Rory?" Katniss asks Madge.

"Elementary school," says Madge. "We stayed friends." Suddenly she turns to me. "Sorry," she offers, "I was taught better than that. I'm Madge."

"I'm Annie." She nods and I smile and it feels good to know someone else in this place, let alone in the whole of San Diego. Before we can get into any sort of conversation, she sucks in a breath.

"Oooh, I've gotta pee. Is there a bathroom?"

"Just over there, that door." I point and she smiles in thanks, then hurries to the restroom. Katniss and I are quiet again while waiting, and soon Madge is back.

"So, what's out there?" She leans her head in the direction towards the other two doors of mystery.

"Haven't looked yet, but now seems like a good time." We all get up and proceed to the first door, the one right by Katniss' bed.

Katniss opens it cautiously, as if something might jump at us from the other side. I think that's doubtful, and as soon as the door is completely open I'm proven right.

It's a closet and fairly large; I can tell that the stuff in it probably belongs to all three of us. There's a light switch and Madge flips it.

"My slippers!" I grab them and soon my feet are in familiar fuzzy warmth.

"Maybe we should change first," suggests Madge. Both she and Katniss are in pajamas, so that seems reasonable. I'm still in my clothes from yesterday, and I think they can last long enough. I take my hair and give it a sniff and it still smells like the ocean. That's not bad, so I simply wait around while they finish and then we head to the final door. Anticipation is building inside of me and so when I am the first one to get to the door I quickly throw it open. As it hits the thing that stops the door from hitting the wall I wince but then continue on to the unknown.

It's a very open living space. There are two couches and a chair that face a tv mounted on a wall; that's in the center of the room, closest to where we are. On the other side of that appears to be the kitchen, and then I'm suddenly hungry. But I push the feeling down as I walk out towards the middle and look around. On the wall between our room and the kitchen there's a door. I go over to it and knock, but no one answers.

"It probably leads outside," notes Katniss, and I agree.

"There's another door, over there," says Madge. It's in the same position as our room, but on the opposite side. We look at each other for a moment, and then Katniss shrugs and walks over to it; Madge and I follow.

Katniss knocks. She also adds a "hello"; I wonder if people are inside this room.

"Who's there?" We all jump and it's almost funny. Katniss doesn't seem to know what to say¸ but luckily Madge takes charge.

"It's Madge. Is that you, Peeta?"

"Yes. We can't get out." Katniss tries the doorknob experimentally. It won't open.

"How many of you are in there?" asks Madge.

"Three." Suddenly, I get an idea.

"Are any of you still asleep?" It's only a thought, but I wonder if that might be the problem.

"Just one."

"Wake him up," I suggest. "Shake him awake, or something." I guess that it's all boys in there, because it just makes sense.

"I'll do the honors!" It's a different voice.

There is no sound for several moments, until a distinctive yell practically vibrates the door.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Gale." Katniss mutters it under her breath. Madge reaches for the doorknob and this time it opens. She quickly steps through, and Katniss and I follow after her.

I take a moment to look around me and see three beds set up similarly to those in our room. The walls are light beige, like ours. Their room has a window, too, but it is high above any of our heads.

I look back to the little group and see three guys. The one in bed does not have a shirt on, but he's mostly covered by the blanket so I just sort of ignore it. There's a blonde boy, and he's got a t-shirt on so I'm not worried. And then the boy, the one with the reddish-brown hair, he has no shirt on at all. And he's standing there, just _standing _there, his whole torso in full view. _The last time you saw a boy's chest… _It's all I can do not to think of all the blood. _Push it back, Annie, _I tell myself. _Think about something else._

So I blush and turn my gaze away, going back to thinking about the walls. Or I try, because as soon as I attempt this there is a very blatant and honestly rude remark made by the boy who's thankfully covered by the sheet.

"I am going to _kill _Rory." My eyes widen.

"What did he do to deserve that?" I ask. He rolls his eyes and doesn't respond. There's an awkward silence as all six of us just stand there in the boys' room.

"Wellllll," begins someone. A guy. I have a funny feeling it's the boy without the shirt, so I don't move to look at him. "It seems like we're all going to be here for awhile, so we might as well introduce ourselves." I slowly turn around but keep my gaze on the ground; I cannot look at him and his bare chest and every awful thing it brings to the surface. All of the sudden I feel sickness deep down in my stomach.

"I'll go first," I say with my eyes still trained on the floor. "I'm Annie Cresta and I'm almost seventeen and I took a long walk on the beach yesterday, so I really need to shower." And I walk out of the room.

There are tears in my eyes and acid in my throat and I try to shove it all down and away, somewhere else. When I get in our room I grab some clothes that I know are mine, but I can't tell what they look like through the blur that is now my vision. I rush into the bathroom and lock the door before starting the shower.

I'm about to get in, just finishing peeling off my clothes, when I see something roll out of my sweatshirt pocket. I quickly kneel and pick it up.

It is my shell, my shell of pale pink that I found on the beach yesterday. _The beach, Annie, the beautiful beach. _I remember how happy I was during my time on the shore; I'd like to be that happy right now. _You can be, _I think. Just try.

So I press my shell to my chest for a moment, and then put it on the sink next to the soap bottle. I step into the shower, close the door, and find myself under the spray.

I pretend it's rain, and I smile.

* * *

**So, **I'd like to make a quick apology. I know that we haven't gotten very far in the timeline, and for that I am sorry, particularly if I'm boring you. I promise that next chapter will continue on from this chapter's endpoint, so there will be more... stuff. Also, I'd like to point out the genre change from humor to friendship. This might not seem like a big deal to many, but I felt it was important because the farther and more in-depth I plan this story the more I realize it is not the simple funny/cracky romance I thought it might be. There _will_ be some humor, but also drama and angst (from which I apparently cannot keep myself) and a smidge of action. Above all else this story is about the characters' interactions with one another and their thoughts and feelings as the develop. So while I do not think it may seem a big deal, I just thought I would provide a warning in case it seriously matters to _someone_ out there. To conclude this ridiculously long author's note, I'd like remind you that while reviews are never required, I definitely appreciate and cherish whenever someone shares their thoughts!


	3. Differentiating

**Warnings; **Nothing of import, I believe.

* * *

Social Sundae

III

Differentiating (Between the Old and the New)

* * *

[Peeta]

It is a little unsettling, watching Annie burst out of the room. I wonder what's wrong, but as I look at all the shocked faces I don't think any of us know the answer.

"I'm Peeta Mellark," I say, and chance a glance at Katniss. Katniss, the girl I haven't talked to at all since the sixth grade. Katniss, the strong girl with gray eyes. Katniss, who trigged my crush on her at age five and, according to my ridiculously thumping heart, still captivates me right this very second. I can't guess if she's the same, but I can't imagine her any different.

She catches the flick of my eyes and we look at each other for a moment. Then she flushes and her gaze turns somewhere else. She can't possibly know what I've been thinking, so it must be something else, something I can't guess.

"Katniss Everdeen." I can't discern anything from her voice. That much hasn't changed, then; she's still a mystery.

We go around the room introducing ourselves without any pattern. Madge says her first and last name and where she goes to school – where I went to school, too, until last Wednesday. Finnick Odair lives in Monterey. Gale Hawthorne is really pissed off at his brother. By the end of our introductions the only thing I've deduced is that we're all very different people. Which is probably good for Rory, but makes me a little apprehensive for the next however-long-we're-stuck-here.

_Well you have Katniss. And if an attempted friendship goes wrong, you have Madge. _That is true. And I definitely have no problems with making new friends; I just don't know how I will be received. That's always the tricky part.

"I'm hungry," Finnick announces. "Who knows how to cook?"

"Only if you want bread," I offer. "Put a vegetable in front of me and it'll get messy." There's a bit of laughter. But it's still so uneasy in the room that if it had consistency we'd all be choking on it.

"I'll do it." Katniss is scowling a little, but it's very determined. "It might not be fantastic, but you won't die from it." She then heads out from the room.

I glance at Madge and she just shrugs. "I'm going to go see if I can help with dinner, maybe. You all should get dressed." A sort of half-giggle escapes her and then she's gone.

"You heard the woman," says Finnick. He walks over to a door and opens it. "Bathroom," he identifies, before shutting it.

"So that must mean…" I open the door that's not a foot away from me. "This is the closet." It's separated into three chunks, and I quickly spot some of my own clothes and grab some jeans and a shirt. Gale is now out of bed and beside me, reaching for some clothes of his own. It's kind of like gym.

Soon we've all fulfilled Madge's requirement and are walking out into the living room. I can see Katniss near the opposite wall, pouring something into a pot. Madge isn't in the room, so I guess she's in the girl's room; maybe she's talking with Annie.

Finnick flops on the couch, grabs the remote, and turns on the tv. Gale walks over towards the kitchen area and leans on the island. "Smells good, Catnip."

"You can't even smell anything yet," she retorts, but from where I'm standing I can see she's smiling. Gale actually laughs, and I'm pretty sure it's the first time I've seen him with a pleasant expression on his face. He then goes to sit down and watch tv, too. I frown, wondering if anyone is going to offer to help Katniss; it's not fair that she has to do this by herself. Decided, I approach her.

"Do you need me to do anything?" I ask. For a moment this seems like it is the wrong thing to say, because Katniss' whole body tenses up. But after a moment she relaxes a little and places the sea salt grinder she's holding on the counter.

"Can you get out a sauce pan?" She points to a cupboard that I assume holds the various cooking dishes. I reach down and grab a large pot with two handles. "That's a pot," she says. "Something smaller. And could you put it on a burner?"

I grab a smaller pot with one long handle; her nod tells me that it's what she's looking for, so I place it on the burner as instructed. "Do you want me to turn it on?" I ask. When there's no response, I look up and see that she's reaching into a large cabinet. After a moment she comes out with two cans. One says 'diced tomatoes' while the other says 'tomato sauce.' I raise my eyebrows a little and she sees it.

"We're having spaghetti, okay?" She barely mutters it, and I just smile.

I'm just standing there for a couple minutes as I watch her try to find a can opener. When she finally locates one she comes up from her stooped-over position only to look at me and then take on a strange expression.

"What are you doing there?" I'm not sure what she means. Why wouldn't I be here? I said I was going to help, after all.

"I'm waiting for you to say what you need me to do next." I explain. _Of course I'm here with you, Katniss. Where else would I be? _I stop that train of thought before it goes any further; I can't think about that now.

Katniss appears honestly surprised at my explanation. "What do you mean?" She asks, and her surprise is now melded with something a little suspicious.

"I said I would do anything you needed to help." I try again.

"And I told you to get the saucepan, and should have been enough to get rid of whatever guilt you feel." _She thinks I feel guilty? For what? _And then I realize.

"I'm here because I actually want to help! Not because I feel guilty you offered to make the meal by yourself." I sigh. "Look, if you want me out of here just say so, but I'm offering my assistance with a free conscience."

Katniss' face still holds a look of disbelief, but it's softened a little. "I'm pretty sure there's garlic in the fridge. You do know what garlic looks like, right?" I don't know what to say until I realize, after a second or two, that she's teasing me.

"It kills vampires, right?" I ask, playing along.

"The very same." I retrieve it only to find her struggling to open the can.

"Here, let me," I offer.

"I can do it myself!" She protests; her knuckles grow whiter as she speaks. _She's still as stubborn as ever… _No. I tell myself to shut up.

"I know, but this way you can do the garlic thing and I can open the cans." She gives me another strange look, but finally nods and switches items with me. We work quickly and between our combined ingredients and a few extra herbs, there is spaghetti boiling in a pot and sauce in another in only a few minutes. Katniss stands there for a moment, obviously pleased, before turning to me.

"Thank you." It's quiet but not weak.

"Anytime." We're about to move to do something, probably watch the basketball game now playing on the tv, when Madge appears out of the door to our left.

"Guess what's downstairs, I dare you." She breathes it out, like she's been running.

"Downstairs?" Gale sounds doubtful.

Madge nods. "We're on the second floor. C'mon." Finnick and Gale stand, curiosity piqued. They follow her out the door. I watch them go, and can feel Katniss' gaze on me the whole time.

"You can go with them, you know."

"Yeah, I know." I shrug. "Do you want to get rid of me, then?"

Her eyes narrow and instead of speaking she shakes her head before turning back to chopping some onions and garlic.

"I should watch the sauce," she says. "It's not exactly a two person job." An eye-roll accompanies this statement. I don't want to irritate her, so I nod and then proceed out the door. I'm immediately met with stairs, so I walk down them and am faced with two doors: one is large and blurred glass, and the other is an ordinary wooden door. The larger door doesn't open, so I reach for the other one. It opens easily, and is definitely not what I expect.

It's a volleyball court. Badminton could be played in it as well, probably. On the far wall there are tons of shelves, and I can see Madge pulling a racket away while Finnick and Gale rifle through whatever is on them.

"This is pretty cool," I say as I step further inside and shut the door behind me.

"Peeta, hey!" Madge waves her racket at me like it's her hand and laughs.

"Awesome, right?" Finnick is holding up a birdie. "We were going to play badminton, winner playing whoever sits out. But now we can do teams." He flings a racket at me, which is probably not the best idea because it spins out of control through the air and instead of attempting to catch it I choose to dodge it instead.

It takes two seconds for Gale to start laughing at me, probably not thinking I'm manly enough or something, but I grab it off the floor.

"I'm not going to be on a team with you." Gale smirks and goes to stand next to Madge on the other side of the net. I take my place next to Finnick, and he serves.

Despite the game not really having any definite rules – none of us are sure of the official ones – Finnick insists on keeping score. Gale agrees, but he clearly doesn't like it when he and Madge start to lose by a few points. She misses a hit that Gale left for her to take, and he grumbles about it.

"Excuse me," Madge says not looking very pleased, "you do realize that this is just a game, right? There's no one here for you to impress, so get over it." She tosses her hair over her shoulders with a shake of her head and passes the birdie over the net for us to serve.

I do the honors and the game starts up again; Gale looks slightly bitter, but still puts a lot of energy into the game. I can't guess why he cares so much, but I have a feeling we're all going to be getting to know each other a lot better if we are confined in such a small space for an indeterminable amount of time. I think of how my brothers and I can't hang out for too long before a fight breaks out. Sometimes they're physical, sometimes they're only vocal.

It doesn't take much to see that both kinds have the potential to occur here.

"Um, hello?" Upon hearing the voice Finnick stops the birdie with his racket and catches it in his hand. We all turn to the speaker.

It's Annie, her wet hair a sign that she actually did take a shower, rather than simply get some space and collect herself.

"Katniss wanted me to tell you that dinner's ready." Her eyes search the room as she speaks, and they don't settle for even a second.

"Thanks for letting us know, Annie." Finnick sounds really warm and I wonder if he's one of those guys who goes after whatever girl he wants and always manages to succeed.

_I hope Annie's not his next target. _Looking at her, that seems just wrong. At school there were some guys who would get the girls they liked and then break them; from her exit earlier I almost think that Annie's already broken.

But it's too early to have opinions like that about Finnick; all wondering aside, he seems very friendly. I don't want to judge off of an hour or two of acquaintance, so I won't say anything. At least, not right now.

ss

Dinner is an interesting event. There isn't a dining room table, so we each claim a barstool at the island and sit around it. It's a little cramped, but we survive. Katniss is definitely a better cook than my mom, but then again her specialty is breads and cakes and other carbohydrates, so I guess it's not that big of a deal. I definitely don't say anything about this to Katniss; I can tell she's already embarrassed by the praise everyone else has given her.

"Peeta helped a little," Katniss mutters after the third complement.

"Yeah," I nod. "I opened three whole cans." Everyone laughs. Evidently the food is good for all of us, because we're all smiling, even Gale. He praises her again and I see their eyes meet. Katniss blushes and I look away, not wanting to intrude.

_Maybe she's already got someone, _I realize. I barely know her, at least the current her, and it would be stupid to get into some sort of soap opera battle over a girl who is able to make her own decisions and probably doesn't even care about me anyways.

"Peeta's always lending a hand." Madge offers this piece of information about me pretty much out of the blue and my eyes widen. "Everything from joining the after-school tutoring program as both a tutor and a pupil to braving Senor Marquez's class for extra textbooks when Senora's class ran out."

"How could you be both a tutor and a pupil?" Annie's eyes are wide, too, and definitely curious. But Madge doesn't even let me answer for myself.

"Well, he tutored because he's smart enough to do it, and he was tutored because people thought they were above it. He showed everyone it was okay to ask for help." I'm embarrassed by the attention now, but at least Katniss isn't under the –

_Oh. _I silently congratulate Madge, and decide to keep the ball rolling.

"Senor Marquez is a scary piece of work," I admit, "and nothing is scarier than when he starts raving at you _en Espanol _and you can't even understand half of it."

"My French teacher tried to force-feed me escargot when I was a sophomore," laughs Finnick, "so you couldn't have had it that bad." We all wince at the notion of eating snails, but then Annie starts giggling and we break into laughter.

"My chemistry teacher fried off his eyebrows and singed his hair last year," says Gale. "We called him Hairless Henderson."

"Henderson?"Annie sounds surprised. "I had him this year." At Gale's strange look she sighs. "I just moved here in February."

"Did you have class with Rory?" Annie glances at Katniss and nods slowly before looking down at the table.

"I'll do the dishes," she offers. "It's only fair."

"I'll help." Annie winces and can barely meet Finnick's eyes, but despite my earlier thoughts I can't think of anything he's done to her to make her upset.

Madge looks between the two of them, a little unsure. "I can help too; I said I would help with dinner and I didn't."

Annie, however, waves her off. "It's fine, there's only the pots and pans to do, since there's a dishwasher. I'm… sure Finnick and I can handle it."

"How do you suppose this thing works, anyways?"

"What do you mean, Katniss?" Gale's face is back in its natural position: a frown.

"How does Rory's project work?"

"Cameras, probably," I say. "And he's most likely recording our behavior and that sort of thing."

"Oh, right." She scowls again – no wonder she and Gale are such good friends – and it seems like she's waiting for someone to respond to this piece of information. But no one says anything, and there's an awkward pause.

"So… everyone, I'd advise you to keep your clothes on. Don't want to be offering a free show." Before anyone can say something he steamrolls forward. "Right. Shall we, Annie?" Annie actually meets his gaze and then they stand. They collect the plates before heading over to the sink.

Then there are four people left at the table; Katniss is pushing the last of her spaghetti around her plate, and Gale is looking at her from the corner of his eye. And all I can think is _I should have known. _

"Don't worry Catnip," says Gale. "It won't be published in some sort of science journal – he's not even sixteen, and it's for some community college class."

"That kid's a genius though," points out Madge. "And I bet we're making him real embarrassed right now, so we should probably stop talking about Rory. Not to mention if we were actually in a situation where, somehow, we were all locked in a condo together by chance we wouldn't be talking about whether or not our story would be published in a research journal."

I laugh; Katniss chokes on her drink. Gale just rolls his eyes, but I don't really care. He's passive-aggressive but harmless.

"Want to play a videogame?" Madge simply gazes at me, and I shrug.

"What kind?" I'm not really one of those Zelda guys, but I don't like random exploding games, either.

"Dance game."

"Sure, Madge." I already know I'm going to be bad; I'm not exactly light on my feet.

She sets it up and I watch, curious, as she uses the remote to navigate the screen. _When did she discover this? _I don't ask the question out loud. She tosses me a controller; I catch it with ease and then we begin.

I'm as awful as I predicted, but at least Madge and I are having a good time. We make it three-fourths of the way through the song before she slips on the hardwood floors and collapses into giggles.

"Careful, Madge. Here." I give her a hand up, but it's too late to stop the laughter. We fall back onto the couch and laugh as our on-screen players fail the rest of the song.

"Can't…breathe…" Madge wheezes. From the smile on her face I can tell it isn't a serious health issue, but a concerned voice reaches my ears.

"Do you need some water, Madge?"

Madge coughs a bit but waves off the offer. "I'm fine, Katniss, but thanks for offering." I turn around to glance at Katniss, and she's frowning.

_Still taking care of people, then? _I try not to think too much of it, but everything that's occurred in the past few hours points at Katniss Everdeen still being very protective. _In the most attractive of ways. _

When Madge pokes me I rearrange myself to be turned towards her body once more. She's got a funny expression in her eyes, and I can't think of a single thing I've done for it possibly to be accusatory, but…

_Do you like Katniss? _She mouths it, and for a moment I'm not sure how to respond. I'm barely getting to know Katniss – again – and I don't want to say yes, but denying it would definitely be a lie.

Finally, I simply offer a shrug.

Madge narrows her eyes as she looks at me. _What? _Her eyes flick, then, and I realize she's not looking at me at all. _How am I going to do this? _I don't want to attract attention from those in the kitchen area, so I slowly swivel my head. Gale's back is to me, and it's obvious he's talking to Katniss.

What's also obvious – well, clearly not to Gale, but at least to me and Madge – is that Katniss is only giving him half of her attention.

The other half of the time it's obvious that she's looking over at us on the couch. But somehow, I know it's not the both of us that have her concern.

It's just me

* * *

**Just so you know,** concrit is appreciated and any sort of comment is loved. And as always, a chapter will never be withheld for lack of reviews. If you're curious, Madge is next. :D


	4. Balancing

**Warnings;** Some minor swearing. Taking the Lord's name in vain. A melodramatic Madge.

Quickly: A few people have asked about the AU aspect in this story, and I thought I'd clarify. The setting of this tale is modern - give or take a year or two - and in the area of San Diego county. As you've probably realized, ages have been altered, or as I see it- "condensed." Finnick is only a grade older than Gale/Katniss/Peeta, and Annie and Madge are a grade younger. And while this story does not deal with the Games, family situations are similar/the same.

And that's my short 'for your information.'

* * *

Social Sundae

IV

Balancing (Is Harder Than You Think)

* * *

[Madge]

My sleep that first night is absolutely awful. I feel suffocated under the thick, pink comforter and kick it off; unfortunately, that only causes me to feel chilly and need them back over my body once more. It's a vicious cycle, but eventually my restlessness loses to the side effects of whatever sort of sleep syrup Rory gave us and I fall into dreamland. This would be nice and all, but unfortunately dreamland isn't being very _nice_.

Sometimes when you're asleep you have those dreams that quickly morph out of the typical hodge-podge your subconscious throws together and become nightmares. Fear causes you to wake up, you assure yourself that it isn't real, and then you nestle back under your covers to drift into the security of a weird mash-up of singing flowers and Indiana Jones.

If only it could be that easy.

Instead of crashing back into reality my dreams straddle the line between personal normal and personal horror, effectively trapping me in one of those "can't look away" situations.

_My mom is sick. This is a relatively common dream, simply because it's relatively common in reality. The throwing up is less common, but not unheard of when the headaches turn to nausea. I hold her hair back and lay my cheek on the top of her head. _

"_Madge, I have something to ask you." It's Rory, and I have no idea what he's doing in my bathroom. I want to tell him that he's not welcome, but I don't. "There's a project I'm working on for this college class I'm taking, where you'll stay at a place with some other people and it'll be like a simulation of people trapped in a place together, I guess, and—"_

"_Sure." _

_There's a gasp and I turn to my mother._

"_How could you? How can you leave me?"They're familiar words coming out of the wrong mouth. My own accusations, flinging back at me from the worst possible person. _

_I slip on the floor and fall into the toilet, and suddenly I'm swimming amongst the stars. It's mesmerizing and horrifying, because wasn't my mother just emptying her stomach into the bin? Before I can give this much thought I am distracted by earth, which I pass by on my way to wherever I'm going. The globe transfigures into a leering face, four leering faces, a million. _

_I suddenly fall towards the faces-slash-planet, and am swallowed by one of the mouths. I land on the uvula, and saliva begins drowning me and I start to suffocate and-_

I flinch and my eyes snap open. My fingers are twitching, and to distract them I lift my hand to my face so that I can brush my hair out of my eyes. They barely touch the skin there, but I can tell that I've been crying. _Just peachy. _I withhold a groan as I sit up; I can feel some light bruising on my side, and realize it must be from when I slipped last night. It hadn't hurt then – but that's laughter and adrenaline for you.

Doing my best not to wake Katniss and Annie, I slip through the door as quietly as possible. Inspiration strikes me as I walk into the kitchen area, and suddenly making breakfast for everyone seems like a fun idea. A quick search of the cupboards leads me to a box of Bisquick, and so I set about making pancakes.

Despite my dreams merely being dreams, they originate from reality, and so as I begin cooking I feel a heavy weight in my chest. To distract myself, I may or may not dance as I mix the batter and heat up the griddle, and the word 'dancing' may or may not include some ridiculous twirling and sliding around on the hardwood floors in my fuzzy socks. And when I pour the first four pancakes on the griddle I may or may not attempt one of those jumps that requires extending the arms as high as possible, and bending at the knees to make one's calves parallel to the floor.

Unfortunately, my landing doesn't go as smoothly as I would like, and I end up slipping. I fall to the floor and hit my head on one of the handles on the cupboard beneath the sink.

It does sting, but I doubt I'm seriously injured or even bleeding. I roll over onto my back and gingerly reach to touch my head where it hurts. No blood. That's good. Despite this reassurance I simply lay there, a little disoriented and maybe a little lazy.

I slowly begin to smell something, though, and it isn't pleasant. When it finally clicks in my head what it is I sit up straight really fast. "Ow." I wince and put my hand to my head, but only allow a few seconds to try to organize my jumbled mind. Something is burning!

I scramble to my feet and sort-of-dive – well, not actually dive, but it feels like it to my head – for the now- blackened pancakes. Frustrated and feeling particularly harried, I scoop them into the trash can that resides below the sink and unplug the griddle.

Just after I let out a sigh of relief the smoke alarm sounds. The obnoxious ringing has me wincing and I begin to furtively hope that there are no sprinklers hanging and ready to soak the place.

"What's going on out here?" It's Finnick, and for the first time since I met him he looks… worried. At least, he doesn't appear to be his typical cocky self.

"I was trying to cook something, and it burned. But it isn't a big deal," I assure him. "I got rid of the stuff and rinsed out the pan already. The detector didn't go off until after I did that, actually." His brows are furrowed, as if he expects something else, and his serious expression is scarier than any smoke alarm.

Then, he shakes his head and laughs, effectively returning to his former ease. "Here, I'll turn off the alarm." He suddenly gets on the island and stands, and then reaches for the sensor. "Screwdriver?"

I proceed to open random drawers until I find one with random stuff in it. Luckily, a screwdriver is one of the random items in said random drawer; I place it in his hand and he sets to work.

"What the hell is going on here?" It's whatshisface, Gale. Rory's brother. _Yeah..._ Gale with the superiority complex, that's probably the best way to describe him.

I want to tell him to take his haughty and aloof self back to bed, but something tells me he won't listen.

"I slipped on the floor and hit my head while the pancakes I was attempting to make were cooking. They burned before I got back to them." Gale just rolls his eyes.

Of course he doesn't ask if I'm okay.

Of course, I'm used to people not caring._ I_ am the caretaker after all, the one who is always concerned for others, the one who needs to be concerned for those in her care. But still. It would have been nice.

I shrug it off as best as I can, as I always have, and simply stand there with my shoulders tense until the beeping stops.

"There we go!" Finnick's cheery voice pulls my mind from its numbness, and when he jumps off the island I return his bright smile.

"Thank you for fixing that." He grins at me, and it's a little too bright. It puzzles me for a moment, but then it hits me: it's as if he's overcompensating for his earlier, not-quite-that-big-of-deal fright.

I chew my bottom lip as I consider that maybe Finnick Odair is not as pulled together as he would like us all to think. But before I can further process this another person makes herself known.

"Is everything okay?" Annie's poking her head out from our bedroom, a frown etched on her face.

"It is now." _No thanks to Madge. _Gale's glances at me can only be obvious, so I know that my guiltiness is implied. I'm a little insulted, so I raise my eyebrows at him.

Upon catching my expression his glances turn into a glare.

Annie's eyes widen as she takes in all three of us standing in the kitchen, and she jumps back and slams the door.

There's a sigh, and I know it must belong to Finnick. I quickly turn to look at him and confirm my suspicion; he looks almost confused.

Besides, I knew it couldn't actually be Gale; I've surmised the only thing he feels besides his affection for Katniss and annoyance with Rory is superiority.

Jury's still out on whether or not he actually _feels _this, though; I suspect it may just be in his head, rather than this heart. Because, naturally, I have decided that Gale Hawthorne just might not possess a soul.

ss

By the time everyone is out and has eaten breakfast another hour has passed; after my fumble cereal is the cuisine of choice. Minding Finnick's advice from last night we've all changed into clothes that we wouldn't mind wearing in public, and when I personally get dressed I stay very far away from fuzzy socks.

It becomes evident rather quickly that the newness of the situation has worn off, and now we have no idea what to do with ourselves. We wander about aimlessly for a bit, and during this period of time I begin to ponder the possibility of us dying from boredom.

Luckily, things begin to sort themselves: Annie finds a book and curls up in a chair to read it; Gale, Finnick, and Peeta put in a football videogame; I find a checker board and suggest a game to Katniss.

"Sure." She smiles, and I take it to the island.

We set up our pieces quickly and I go first.

"So," I speak quietly as I move my piece, "how have you been?"

"Fine." Though I haven't talked with Katniss for several years I assume she means relatively recently. There are a few turns that pass in silence before she resumes speaking. "It just goes."

"Life?"

"I was thinking time, but yeah."

"Not fast or slow," I muse, "at least, not consistently. I know what you mean."

She nods. "Does your mom still get sick?" I glance up from the board and notice Katniss is looking at me.

"Yes." I do my best not to wince. _Of all the things… _"Is yours still unwell?"

"No." Mrs. Everdeen's illness was completely different from my mother's, but still undeniable as illnesses go. "But I still worry about her."

"Going away to college next year?" Thankfulness washes over me in a sudden wave; I still have several months to apply, and another full year to make a decision. If it was so difficult to leave my mother on her own for a few weeks, could I stand several months in a row? Could she?

"Yeah. It's just hard."

"Tell me about it." I sigh and then, acknowledging how ironic this whole thing is, giggle a little. Katniss looks up in surprise at the sound, but then laughs as well.

It's ridiculous, I admit to myself. Not that we're laughing, but what we're laughing at: the fact that two teenagers going off to college soon are less concerned with what they'll meet there rather than what they will leave behind.

ss

After lunch we decide to play a game of volleyball. It's Gale – who naturally couldn't bear to be with either Peeta or me – and Katniss and Annie on one team, and me and Finnick and Peeta on the other. We learned to play in P.E., so while I wasn't on the official team I'm fairly decent. Peeta keeps hitting the ball too hard, though, and I can't help but laugh at his overzealous serves. Finnick keeps trying to bump it with his head, and Gale makes a remark about it being volleyball, not soccer.

"It's just a game, let's not make a big deal out of it," I insist, trying to stretch the peace for as long as possible. Gale has a nice eye roll at my expense, but doesn't respond. And so the game continues.

One thing that particularly irritates me about Gale's grumpiness is that, unlike last night, his team is winning. Gale is a decent serve, Annie can set well, and Katniss is brilliant at spiking and pretty much everything; in short, they're beating us by a long shot. But for some reason he's intent on just being miserable – or annoying, at the very least.

_You've already determined that it's likely he has no soul, _I tell myself, _so get over it. _So I do. Instead, I notice Peeta trying to hide his continual glances at Katniss, who is in that sort of lunge-crouch thing. Because he's a guy and I know a little about them, I wonder if he's trying to look down her top or something. But because I only know a little about guys, I can't be sure.

I believe myself to be an observant person, so I have no idea if anyone else is noticing this; it's not as if I'm going to go around and ask if they do. So I stop looking at Peeta and focus on the game instead.

We play for another hour and we're all really sweaty by the time Finnick suggests ending the game. Of course Katniss' team wins, and Annie offers high fives to all of us as we head up the stairs to the house.

Annie and Peeta take the first showers, Finnick goes to the boys' room for some reason, and Katniss begins dinner. I go to help her when I feel a hand on my arm.

I slowly turn around to see Gale looking down at me. "Yes?"

"Please save us all from the nightmare that will no doubt ensue once you enter the kitchen by not entering at all." His whole attitude makes me want to punch him in the face, which is very uncharacteristic of me and thus even more irritating.

There's plenty of concrete evidence I might pull out of my head and speak in a clear, explanatory manner - I cook plenty at home, this morning was an honest accident that doesn't happen often – but all I can say is:

"I didn't ask for your opinion, but I'm glad you have one. Brainless robots are the minions of an autocratic society."

I have no idea from where the hell _that _originates, but it's already spoken; I may coat my voice in sugar, but the words taste like poison. Good God, I'm never like this. I didn't think it was possible, but Gale just keeps lowering himself on my personal likability scale every time he opens his mouth. Or rolls his eyes.

"That's very true. However, I must inform you that my opinion is in the best interests of all of us. Our dinner exactly, if you were wondering."

"One slip is not a health hazard."

"Madge, we're just having frozen pizzas." I turn and see that Katniss has an odd expression painted across her face. I can't tell what it means because it doesn't appear either positive or negative, but from what I can tell Gale is her close friend, so maybe she thinks…

Ugh, please no. The thought of me and the soulless wonder makes my chest feel all itchy and my throat burn, like a cold has lodged itself in my upper body. Maybe the stomach flu, even. Yes, exactly – Gale Hawthorne and me together makes me feel like I have the stomach flu.

"Okay." I nod and detach myself from Gale as quickly as possible without looking like a flailing idiot. I reach for the remote and aim it at the television, sliding into the chair as I click it and the screen turns on. It's the four o'clock news, and thus a good middle ground for all of our varying tastes – not to mention that it's nice to have a window into the real world, being so cut off from it.

They're discussing June gloom weather, and while it isn't the most exciting topic I'm glad for something. Then they begin covering the fair, which is far more interesting and makes me feel a little wistful.

"What are they talking about?" Annie is standing behind my chair, and while part of me registers the fact that I can go shower now, I want to answer her question.

"The San Diego County Fair." It used to be called the Del Mar fair, my mom always says. She doesn't like that they changed the name. Before I can think on my mom and feel guilty some more I distract myself with Annie's response.

"Is it very big?"

"It's huge. They have a giant track for horse races and carnival rides and agricultural exhibits – everything, really." I turn to meet Annie's eyes, but her gaze is trained on the screen. I quickly glance and see that they're showing how they're setting up for tomorrow, the opening day. I suddenly am fearful we'll still be in here after the fair ends, and my stomach drops. "We go every year – my dad, my mom, and me."

"Oh. That sounds like fun."

"It is," I sigh. "It definitely is." Swallowing my emotions, I get up and exit the room, ready to take a shower now.

I wash quickly and mechanically, and am soon drying my hair and pulling on some fresh clothes. I exit the bedroom and call out "Katniss?"

It doesn't take her long to get to the door. "Did you blow dry your hair?"

"Um, yeah. My hair's kind of thin." She frowns as she nods.

"I'd be in their forever if I tried to dry my hair with a blow drier," she says while holding a long, dark strand in front of her face, and I laugh. "And I need to hurry to be out before the pizza's done." Katniss curls around the door and out of sight.

In the living room Annie sits in the chair I had occupied earlier, watching the news with apparent interest. Finnick is pouring himself something to drink in the kitchen, and Peeta is sitting on the couch. Without thinking I take a seat next to Peeta and he turns to look at me.

"Hey Madge," he greets. His brow is puckered a little and I wonder if something is wrong.

_What's the matter? _I don't verbalize it, but just give him a look. When he doesn't respond I mouth the words and he rolls his eyes.

_Gale? _I've quickly begun to associate him with eye-rolling recently, so it's the first thing I think of; I just don't expect to be right.

When he nods I can't help my curiosity. "What'd he do?" It's nothing more than a mutter, but I'm pretty sure he can hear me.

He shakes his head and rolls his eyes again, but I know he's going to answer me because he turns up the volume on the television so it will be harder to hear us. "Just acting stupid, is all. No big deal. Insulting "prep school idiots" and whatever." There's a pause, and then – "Katniss defended me."

"And you realized Gale likes Katniss?" I ask. I had surmised as much around dinnertime last night.

"I got that yesterday." He shrugs. "It's just… his temper. I'm worried about what's going to happen if we're here for a really long time."

Fights: just another thing to worry about. I've been so fixated on keeping the emotional peace that I haven't even considered a physical altercation. The idea makes my stomach roll.

"I'm not saying he'd do anything," he quickly assures; I wonder if my face belies my apprehension. "I'm just theorizing. I keep thinking that he's more passive-aggressive than anything, really. He seems to like making snide comments and stuff."

I nod to appease Peeta. It does make sense; none of us seem to be physically violent people, and Gale appears to personally favor the "snide comments and stuff." But it's the _and stuff _that makes me worry.

The rest of the night passes without much fanfare. We eat at the island as we did last night, but with less conversation. After we finish eating we all sit on the various couches and chairs and watch tv. Finnick finds _The Sixth Sense _on a movie channel,and while I last through the entire movie it's about three-fourths of the way through it when I feel tiredness creep up on me. When another Bruce Willis movie begins I excuse myself and get ready for bed.

Getting ready is quick, methodical, and mechanical. I change into pajamas and brush my hair and teeth. Then, I leave the bathroom.

I lie down, close my eyes, and go to sleep. And in my dreams, Gale punches Peeta in the face.

* * *

**Between** my laptop randomly deciding to delete a chunk of this chapter, applying for scholarships, and a ton of homework, I haven't had a lot of to get writing done. Though believe me when I say I have been trying! Next is Finnick, who I've been scared to write since the very beginning... so we'll see how that goes. Also, the fair mentioned in this chapter is very real; I've been a few times, even. And it was indeed called the Del Mar fair, or at least that's what my parents tell me.

As always, any comments are cherished (and there were a lot last time, thank you everyone!) and concrit is appreciated and taken to heart. C:


	5. The Best Masquerade

**Warnings; **Finnick does a lot of mental swearing. ...Quite a lot, I might say.

* * *

Social Sundae

V

The Best Masquerade (of Angels and Devils)

* * *

[Finnick]

Shakespeare got it wrong – the world is not a stage, it's a game. Life is a game, and all of us are players, contestants. We all play the game… but sometimes, we get played.

In this house – condo, whatever – we play a game within a game. It's like those little ecosystem kids make in those two-liter soda bottles, where they look in and point at the flies that get eaten by the daddy long-legs.

I haven't figured out which of us are the flies and who're the daddy long-legs. But I do know that this shit is just like high school, and since I've only been out of that place for a year I'm definitely not _keen _to be back in that mess.

Oh my God, the six of us must be the biggest idiots ever to be on the planet.

"Are you hungry, Finnick? We're doing grilled cheeses." Madge is wearing an apron and her hair is tied back, which is kind of ridiculous because it's not like her hair will get into a grilled cheese.

"What Peeta means is that I'm doing the grilled cheeses and he's sitting around, just watching." Madge laughs. "So, you want one?"

"Sure." Ladies and gentlemen, meet my poker face. I have fucking perfected that charming poker face over so many years, the only reason I know it's not my real face is because I can feel it, deep down in the same part of my stomach that gets butterflies and swallows my heart in those high-tension situations.

Five minutes later I have several sandwiches in my hand and instructions from Madge to deliver them to everyone else.

"And don't take no for an answer!" I wink at her in response – it's so _easy, God _– and set off on my mission before I can cath her reaction.

I head out the door and down the stairs to where Gale and Katniss are. They're playing a game of badminton, and it is so damn easy to noticethe tension. The only thing I can't tell is where it's coming from. It's a strange dancing game they play, Katniss and Gale. They're close, but there's something missing…

Or maybe it's something extra. Details, details.

"I bring a delectable entrée from the sous chefs upstairs." Katniss catches the birdie in her hand and they both turn towards me. Instantly, the feeling in the room changes.

"What is it?" I toss a paper towel-wrapped sandwich at Gale. He inspects it. "Grilled cheese?" He frowns and takes a bite. Katniss seems almost exasperated as she holds her hand out, so I quickly get one to her, too.

"Thanks, Finnick." She smiles at me, which strikes me not for its rarity so much as it is strangeness on her usually grim face.

"Well, it's better than caf food probably will be."Katniss seems to choke on her food at Gale's admission, but quickly hides it. "Where do you go, Finnick?"

"CSU Monterey Bay." I don't like talking about myself – well, not like _this _– so I expertly deflect the light. "But you guys, you're fresh meat! Who gets to try a bite out of you guys?"

"San Diego State." Katniss speaks quickly, though her face seems a little less scowl-y and a little more worried.

"Same," Gale says in a surprising change from grumpy-proud to pleased-proud. I think the kid has issues; I would know.

On that note, I think all of us here have issues, but that's a different discussion for a different day - or several days.

"Cool."

"Wait, if you go to Monterey, then what are you doing down here, anyways? And how do you know my brother?" Wow, that's a bit late on the uptake, Gale. But it's okay, I can forgive him – I'm the best at distractions, after all.

"Rory and I attended some biology seminar last semester, that's how I know him." I shrug. "And who doesn't want to go to San Diego? It's the perfect summer getaway." It's all true, but that last word is meant a lot more literally than they probably realize.

Which is exactly how I want things.

Katniss and Gale both frown – or, y'know, frown _more _– and she shifts away from him. Which is weird, because I've deduced that they're supposed best friends. To break the tension I can feel building I grin like I'm practically programmed to do, and then exit back the way I came.

This is supposed to be my break from worming my way into someone else's brain, but I can only help myself to the puzzle that sits before me. Gale obviously is into Katniss, but I get the feeling she doesn't exactly reciprocate – at least, not fully. But she doesn't really care about that, I think. There's something else…

Whatever. Or mostly whatever. Because no matter how hard I try to relax around these people it just won't work, and no matter how much I try to back off I can't help but get the feeling that someone – or several someones – is hiding something.

ss

Despite being a proclaimed sexual fiend, I still have the courtesy to knock on the door to the girls' room. This is partially because I am well-mannered and suave, and partially because it is Annie on the other side. Why does that matter, you ask?

Believe me when I say I've been wondering the same thing.

"Yes?" She's got the door open and her head is curled around it; her body language screams of trying to keep the world out – trying to keep _me _out. Which I do not get. Because, while a wise decision on the whole, I do not think there is enough evidence to convict me of anything. At least, not _yet._

What did I ever do to her?

"I've got a grilled cheese for you, if you want one." Annie nods and then sticks out her hand. I give her the sandwich and she mutters a thanks. _Wait! _For some strange reason I don't want her to shut the door quite yet.

"What are you doing in there?" Anything to stall.

"Reading. I found a few books lying around…"

"What are you reading right now?"

"_The Picture of Dorian Gray._"

"Oh." The book is familiar to me, and that's what's uncomfortable about it. "Have you read it before?"

She (finally!) looks up into my eyes. "No. But I like it so far. It's kind of…"

"Flowery?" That's what comes to my mind, at least. Among other things.

"Sad."

"That too," I agree, though still confused – she likes that it's sad? That's one of the weirder things Annie's said.

She smiles at me and I swear it sends a chill down my spine.

_Goddamn. _

I'm not sure why I'm so eager to be on the same page as her, but I am. And her smiling at me makes those butterflies mentioned earlier flutter and they really, really need to stop. This could get me in so much trouble. But then I realize it won't, because she is absolutely not interested, and I like to think I have more self control than that.

"Want to go eat these on the steps?" Wait, what?

"Sure." _Wait, what?_

She slowly steps out from behind the door and shuts it. Her steps are quiet as she follows me out of the room and to the door that leads as close to the outside world as we can get. I turn around and smile.

_Don't worry about whatever it is you normally worry about when you see me, _it says. Or at least, that's what I try to make it say.

There's also a very high chance that it can be interpreted as _hello, little lady, come lie in my bed. _

Sadly, normally I don't care about that potential mix-up too much. It's a scary thought.

We exit the room and make our way down the steps. Three from the bottom Annie stops and sits, and I follow her lead.

We eat in silence, and the whole time the only thing I can think is that I haven't been on a date for more than a year, and this is the weirdest, most fucked-up date I've been on. If you can even call it that.

"There's a trash can in the garage," I supply when we're finished.

Her expression says _I know _and of course she does. I'm just a dumbass.

We go in the garage-slash-game-room and put our paper plates in the garbage. I stare at the can for an extra moment, thinking about a whole bunch of depressing and shameful things, and then Annie distracts me.

"Look, Finnick!"

"What – oh." She's opened the door. The other door, the one that leads outside.

She turns to me and I see a legitimate grin light up her face before she runs towards the sunlight.

"What are you doing?" And _there_ goes my poker face.

I walk out the door just in time to see her dive into a pool.

I can understand her excitement because, after spending the better part of four days cooped up in the house, the idea of escaping to the water is the best thing I can think of. Suddenly the image of the sun reflecting off of the pool is swapped for that of a foggy morning on the bay. I don't feel shells and sand under my toes when I run and jump in the water, but in my head…

It's the perfect combination of home and vacation. Enslavement and freedom. _Such a fucked up life._

When I surface I do not see Annie above the water; she is still completely submerged. I can see her form beneath the surface, only a yard or two away. I dive back under and open my eyes – the irritation of chlorine is different from but no worse than that of ocean water – and catch up to Annie. I wave under the water, and her eyes widen before she heads up. _Shit. _I've scared her again somehow, and the urge to reassure her leads me to air once more.

She watches me with mild suspicion as I come up, her eyes barely blinking back the water streaming down her face.

"This is the closest I'll get to the ocean for awhile," I say. It's the wrong explanation because it's true.

This confuses her or something, and I don't like the expression that comes on her face – I can't place it. Maybe she didn't expect that to be what I said, and while I'm used to keeping people on their toes this is…different.

After a long moment of studying me, she nods. "I know what you mean." Annie doesn't smile, but isn't frowning any more, either.

Maybe she does know what I mean, but that doesn't mean she gets how it feels. No one can do that. No one can be me. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

We swim together for what feels like a long time. I mostly just float and show off my swimmer's physique, but on occasion dip below the surface. Annie, however, is practically a fish. She only surfaces to breathe and have a quick discussion with me before diving under once more.

"What's your favorite part of being in the water?" The words seem like they belong to a joke, but the seriousness that Annie uses makes me feel like I'm applying to work with Shamoo.

"Flexibility." There is none of that give in the real world; I wonder if Annie realizes that.

"I like being weightless." She then rolls onto her back, as if to prove her point. "And flying... I was on the diving team back in Florida."

"And there's not one here?" Maybe she shrugs, I can't tell when she's lying on her back.

Then we're silent and back to ground zero. She submerges once more, leaving me to my thoughts. It's probably safer than sharing them.

ss

Annie eventually gets out of the water, and I follow her lead.

"No towels," she observes, pushing her hair around either side of her neck to splay over her shoulders and onto her chest.

"Hm.. how do you feel about climbing onto the roof?" I see two options here: she turns me down, calling the idea reckless-

"Sure." Or she goes for it.

Annie Cresta keeps surprising me.

Ever the careful gentleman, I clear the way for her, getting into the tree that inspired the idea and then crawling onto the roof. I turn to motion her up, but stop short when I see she's right behind me.

Annie has a very earnest look in her eyes, following me with the until we are both properly situated. Then she wraps her thin arms around her bent knees, and I stretch out and close my eyes and it's quite for a while.

"So, is Annie short for something?"

"This isn't a date, you know." Well, that's a way to sidestep if I ever heard one (I'm a professional at sidestepping questions). But she sounds as if it's the most urgent thing in the world.

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Why not?" She finally turns and looks at me. _Where the hell have my suave skills gone?_

"I mean, without your permission," I clarify.

"Oh." _What the hell, I've thrown everything else to the wind, why not this? _

"Are you scared of me, Annie?"

"Have you ever been manipulated, Finnick?" _Uh, yeah. I wrote the fucking book on being manipulated. _

"Yes." I swear to God if I manipulated her I had no idea.

"I wish I had let myself be... manipulated." _Every day I wish I had not let myself be manipulated_, I want to say. Instead, I just ask her why.

"He would still be alive." I wonder if it's her boyfriend, or maybe a brother. I ask as much.

"No." And that's all she says. We just sit there until our clothes are dry, and the whole time all I can think is _what happened to you, Annie Cresta? And what has happened to me?_

* * *

**Wow_, _**time just flies by, doesn't it! It doesn't quite feel like yesterday that I posted the previous chapter, but it certainly doesn't feel like it's been three months. To be fair to, well, me, festival season turned into scholarship season turned into all-around graduation preparation season (only a few weeks now, yikes!) turned into AP testing. But to be fair to you, three months is a long time, and I sincerely apologize. On the bright side, there's a nice chunk of the next chapter already written in the notebook that I've been scrawling in during my spare time during class, before church, etc. So it should not take nearly as long for that to show up. I also worked out several plot details that were necessary for me to properly convey Finnick's mind, though they may never actually come to light in the story itself.

As always, I thank you for your time and hope you enjoyed yourself. Do not feel pressured to review at all, because chapters appear when I feel they are up to par, not when I have X amount of reviews. However, comments and concrit are appreciated, if you feel so inclined. :D


	6. Between the Lines

**Warnings;** Some swearing, weird teenagers, blah blah blah. The usual.

* * *

Social Sundae

VI

Between the Lines (of Thought and Reality)

* * *

[Katniss]

After a long game with Gale, the warm water of the shower is a welcome feeling. It washes away the sweat and grime on my body, but my mind is in turmoil.

_Damn it Finnick, _ I think furiously as I scrub my hair with equal intensity, _you almost ruined everything! _

I suck in a deep breath and count to seven; it's a method I learned when my mom was in a state of depression and all I wanted to do was shake her or do something equally violent to wake her up.

My shower is calmer after that, and when I get out I braid my hair quickly and dress myself in something comfy. I'm certainly not one to be fancy at all in the first place, so there's definitely no point in getting dressed up while trapped inside this...place. Where I sorta-willingly put myself in jail disguised as a condominium.

But... it could be worse. How? Well, it's very easy for me to think up worst-case scenarios, so I imagine all six of us trapped in a foxhole or something.

With that reassuring thought I open the door to the main area of our holding pen.

"Board game, Katniss?" Madge holds up a box, but I can't tell what it is from my spot in the room.

"As long as it's not Chutes and Ladders." Gale snorts from his spot on the couch; it's only funny because it's how I really feel. Madge simply cracks a small smile and then begins setting up the game.

"God forbid," she says as I walk over. "It's not Monopoly, either - what's the point of a game no one ever finishes? But how about Trouble?"

Got to love Madge; the game is pretty mindless. We talk a little, but none of it is particularly revealing- Madge doesn't pry. It's so different from Finnick's attempts to charm his way into my mind, like he knows something's there without actually knowing it. And Gale, he just picks away, mostly clueless except for a few frightening moments of clarity. Most of the time our friendship is as it's always been, but there are moments where it gets awkward and... different. He's stepping closer, and I'm taking a step back.

Madge and I play three games. Gale joins in on the third, and I don't meet his eyes. He hardly talks anyways. Occasionally Madge glances up from the board and around our little group, and then sometimes she sighs. Towards the end she asks a good question. "Where's Peeta?"

"Right here." He's doing the dishes, Peeta Mellark. In my mind he's stuck somewhere between the boy I remember him as and the man he's quickly becoming, and I don't know what to make of it.

If Finnick is hard to understand, Peeta is the epitome of confusing.

Gale huffs. "Well, where's Finnick and Annie?" Before any of us can haphazard a guess, the two people in question answer for themselves.

"Guess what?" Annie is actually smiling as she bursts through the door to the downstairs. "There's a pool! A pretty nice one. And grass, enough for sleeping bags and a fire... if we had a pit..."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" What pool? We haven't been outside for what feels like ages, now. I glance at Gale and he looks very serious, like I probably do, but there's something behind his eyes. He's excited.

Finnick comes through the door behind Annie. "The backyard." He smiles, but it turns into a smirk. "We saw it first."

"You got the door open?" Gale sounds like he thinks it's suspicious. Considering my encounters with Finnick, I can understand why.

"I just turned the handle and opened," insists Annie. She is the ultimate innocent, so instead of interrogating her Gale turns to Finnick.

"Why didn't you come up and tell us?" He demands, arms crossed over his chest in a typical Gale Hawthorne position.

Finnick smirks like always, but before he can respond Annie bursts out: "I'm sleeping outside tonight. Do you think they have sleeping bags?"

"Probably," says Peeta thoughtfully. "This place is stocked like a Food Network kitchen." The statement is weirdly funny, and I laugh. I'm sure Gale doesn't like that, because I'm sure Gale doesn't like Peeta. _But it doesn't matter what he thinks. _Well, it does - but it shouldn't. I think that I should be able to laugh at a joke Peeta makes and not worry about whether or not my best friend think's it's a good idea to find it funny.

But whatever.

"It's true," I say, my gaze trying to focus anywhere except for Peeta and Gale and landing on Madge. She gives me an encouraging smile. "Things seem to just... appear." Whatever we want, really. Except freedom. But the thought occurs to me that we just might have gotten a bit of that freedom back. "I'll sleep outside with you, Annie." Annie beams at me.

"A slumber party under the stars." Finnick is grinning and I feel a little anxious because of it.

"The fog will roll in really cold," grumbles Gale, but I'm pretty sure he'll go for it. This is Gale who works at the zoo and takes a tent to 'camp out' in the backyard with his little sister Posy.

"It's not like we don't have a practically endless supply of sheets and things," insists Madge with an un-Madge-like roll of her eyes. Gale scowls at her, but she's not looking at him. I'm pretty sure it's on purpose. The oddness of it all hits me and I don't know what to make of it.

"All right, Catnip?"

"Yeah, of course." _I can't let it show. _I'm certainly not the best actress, but I _cannot _let it show, let him get suspicious. Some part of my mind nags me, _you'll have to talk to him soon. _But that day is not today.

"So, do we want to eat up here then?" asks Peeta, effectively distracting me from my mind. Except Peeta makes my mind go in a hundred thousand ways at once, so it's not a proper distraction, not really.

"Here." I say it definitively. My simple statement makes it clear that I'm taking over tonight, and no one argues.

"C'mon Finnick, let's go get some sleeping bags." Annie tugs on Finnick's arm and he follows her pull. Madge follows and they begin to quietly rummage through the various cabinets.

"Do you need my assistance?" Peeta has his hands out in front of him, open and submitting. He looks innocent enough, not to mention the sooner we all eat the better, so I nod.

"Grab those frozen chicken things from the freezer," I command. "And preheat the oven."

I pull out a can of green beans, a can opener, and a sauce pan. Peeta is already preoccupied and does not offer to help with the opening of the can like before but I'm fine with that. I can handle it.

I'm using a fork to lift the opened top away from the can when I feel Peeta brush against me. I look at him - or up at him, I guess. He has a whole head on me.

"Where do you want these?"

"Just wait for the oven to heat up," I say as I pour the green beans into the pan. I watch out of the corner of my eye as he rummages through the cabinets, and look away for only a moment to turn on the stove. When I flick my gaze back to him he is extricating a cookie sheet from one of the cupboards. For some reason my eyes are glued to him as he stands up, and it's only when he turns toward me again that I look back to the green beans.

I'd say that I don't know why I feel weird around Peeta, but that would be a lie. I think back to all those years ago, before I knew Gale and when my father had just died. Second graders all ate their lunch together, but I didn't have anything to eat - my mother was ill with grief, and barely worked. There was only enough leftovers for one proper lunch, and I made sure it went to Prim - Prim who was only in kindergarten and shouldn't be forced to worry about such things. Of course, I know now I shouldn't have had to worry about it either. Unfortunately, fate didn't care about things like "don't" and "shouldn't".

But Peeta did. One day he sat by me - he didn't go to private school then - and slid a slice of bread towards me. I spent as much time as possible in the bathroom so the aides wouldn't notice my lack of sustenance and force me to get a school lunch and then charge my account, but I couldn't stay in their the whole time. With ten minutes to spare I sat down in my spot, and that's when Peeta made his move.

I didn't know what to think. He didn't say anything, for which I was grateful, but it also left me confused. _Was he offering me a piece of his lunch? _I glanced over at his lunch box, and it didn't look like he had a whole lot to spare himself.

I pushed the bread back.

He returned the favor. And elbowed me in the ribs a bit.

I took that as "if you won't eat it I won't, either" and began to nibble on the bread slowly, making it last the whole ten minutes.

Of course, like a lot of food, it was great going down but caused a lot of guilt later. That had been Peeta's bread, not mine. I was... indebted to him, and I didn't like it. If it happened the next day I would refuse point-blank.

Except I didn't. Not the next day, or the day after. But it was on Friday that it really hit me; Peeta slid me a cupcake, and I didn't dare eat it. Well, not all of it. Maybe just half, and I'd save the rest of Prim after school.

When I got home I presented the half-eaten cake to Prim as mother watched from the kitchen, and as Prim took it from my hands and said "Oh thank you Katniss!", she promptly fled the room. She sobbed through the night.

Things changed after that. My mother worked the whole next week, her first time in nearly a month. And then checks started coming in, for the death of my father. Luckily, my mother somehow managed to be careful enough during her lapse that we didn't sustain any serious debt, and we didn't have to move from our decent house. Simply, life carried on the way it always had, minus one.

Basically, it is thanks to Peeta that my mother came back from her downward spiral. And it's likely I'll never quite know how to act around him because of it.

ss

After dinner - which no one dares complain about, despite it's similarities to cafeteria lunch - everyone grabs a sleeping bag and heads downstairs to the backyard. It's my first time seeing it, and as I take in the perfect green grass and the pristine pool I begin to wonder who lives here when we don't. Is the sole purpose of this place simply to house social experiments for the local colleges? Are there others beside this one?

There's a lot I have to ask Rory when we get out of here.

We settle our sleeping bags on the slightly damp grass, and everyone slowly lowers themselves onto said sleeping bags.

"So," begins Madge, but no one fills in the blank. Annie giggles and rolls onto her back.

"This is ridiculous," says Gale. "We're treating it like a slumber party or some shit like that." I know what he means, because I feel like we're expected to just divulge our feelings as if it's no big deal.

"But the lifeguard at the beach is, _like_, so dreamy!" Finnick flutters his eyelashes in a startling impression of a tweenage girl. There's a moment where everything freezes, and then we all break out into various states of laughter. Even Gale snickers.

"I've only got brothers. Girls aren't really like that at slumber parties, are they?" Peeta looks between me, Madge, and Annie. I feel myself flush.

"No, it's more like Girls Gone Wild, eh Catnip?" Gale begins laughing at me and I reach over to shove him the best I can.

Everyone else looks at me in shock, and not knowing what else to do I shrug. "It was that damn volleyball team bonding party." Volleyball is a definite strength of mine, and my mom didn't let me pass by the opportunity to play in high school. The playing part was fun, but when we weren't on the court... well, it was a whole other game. "I wish I hadn't told you that. And it was _not_ the insanity he is making it out to be."

"It really depends on what kinds of friends you have," says Annie. She's not even looking at us, but is instead on her back and staring at the slowly-darkening sky. She I don't know what to make of her, especially at times like these.

"Well," begins Madge in a voice that is sort of loud, "it might shock you to know that this is my first ever slumber party, ever."

I think Gale mutters something like "doesn't shock me" but I can't be sure. It strikes me strangely, like their weird exchange earlier. _What is that between them? _

"A lot of guys are scared to have sleepovers because they're scared they'll seem gay," spouts out Annie, surprising all of us and shocking me out of my thought process.

"I will have you know," says Finnick pompously, "that I am extremely confident in my sexuality."

"Yeah, and how many guys have you had stay over with you?" But Gale's hardly one to talk. Gale has one close guy friend, and he's not even his best friend - that's me. I don't think Gale has ever had Thom spend the night at his house, and I don't think he's ever stayed over at Thom's, either. It occurs to me that Annie made a strange point, but a valid one.

Madge has buried her face in her pillow, and I can only assume that she's listening. Once the general giggling and snarking has died down, she lifts her head and says "What would guys do at a sleepover anyways? Play video games all night?"

Peeta shrugs. "My brothers and I do that sometimes. When they come home from school, that is." I have completely forgotten that both of Peeta's brothers would be out of the house by now, and I wonder what that's like. I cannot imagine being the only child, with no Prim to keep me company - but then, I have no idea if Peeta is nearly as close to his brothers as I am to Prim.

"It must be lonely, being the only child in the house." For some reason Peeta looks a little surprised at my words, but then he nods. Madge smiles, but she doesn't seem to be smiling at me, but at Peeta.

Annie rolls onto her belly and looks around at all of us. "When you're the only child, your parents can focus all their energy on you." Madge nods and sighs, and I wonder what she's thinking - she's an only child too, I realize. But I don't think her parents have that much time or energy to focus on her anyways. I don't know a lot about her dad, except that he runs some big business and is gone a lot. And then there's her mom, who has chronic migraines, and I wonder if Madge spends more time taking care of her mother than her mother does taking care of her.

I know how that is.

"What time is it, do you think?" asks Annie.

"Around seven-thirty, probably." I agree with Peeta, because the sky is closer to being completely dark. There are lights attached to the house, and I guess that they're activated by motion-sensors.

"That's not even late," muses Gale. "You know, we could probably hop the fence and be back before-"

"We're here for Rory. You know, you're _brother_?" Finnick actually sounds irritated. "Relax, man. No one's died yet."

Gale glowers at Finnick a little, then huffs and rolls onto his back. I see Finnick shaking his head and Madge rolling her eyes again. I look around the circle counterclockwise - Gale, Finnick, Annie, Peeta, and Madge. Then I look down at my hands and sigh.

It's been a strange evening to say the least. I had thought we'd be trapped inside forever, so that we were forced to interact. And yet here we are, actually having a conversation together, like normal people. I wonder what that means for us, for this project. I wonder if Rory is watching right now, trying to figure out our brains. _Well good luck to you, Rory Hawthorne, _I think as I crawl into my sleeping bag. _I'm a lot more complicated than a paragraph in an essay._

* * *

**Hi** there, not so bad a wait as last time, right? And that's with graduation and everything too! I don't know why, but I really enjoyed writing this chapter. I suppose that's a good sign, but who knows? Well, I certainly hope I did Katniss justice. If you have any constructive criticism, let me know - I am writing this story for personal enjoyment as well as to strengthen as a writer, so I take all advice to heart. Leave a comment if you're so inclined, I do enjoy them. And I think I'm going to start ending each chapter with a fun fact, because, you know, they're fun!

_Fun fact:_ I have a couple of friends that will be attending SDSU (the school Gale mentioned last chapter) in the fall. Their mascot is the Aztec.


	7. It's All About Strength

**Warnings; **A fair share of swearing. Thoughts on certain body parts. I'd say grumpy!Gale, but he's actually quite entertaining. Oh and no beta, as usual.

* * *

Social Sundae

VII

It's All About (Mental, Emotional, Physical) Strength

* * *

[Gale]

It has been three days since the little camping out party, and nothing's changed. Not that I think it should have, because this isn't _The Breakfast Club_ where we all come clean with who we really are and all our feelings and shit like that. No. Peeta is still Mister-Nice-Guy, Annie is still this strange little girl with weird moments of both insightfulness and childishness, and Finnick is still (mostly) parading around with that goddamn smirk.

And I still like Katniss. And Madge is still irritating.

I'd like to say that at least one of those has had a resolution of some sort, but no dice.

Speaking of dice, we've played a ton of board games lately; television gets unbelievably boring after awhile and it's not always warm enough to swim.

Before lunch we decide to tackle Life, which I think is a bad idea. Not only is it dull but it's a ridiculous attempt to have a realistic game; we're living life, why do we need to play a board game about it?

But Annie looks so happy suggesting it and everyone goes along with her - of course - and Katniss is smiling a little and so what the hell, I join in.

And then it sucks because even though I get to be the Policeman I end up with the fixer-upper house, and all the time I'm thinking that it's stupid and shouldn't bother me, but it does. At one point Katniss nudges me, and I realize that I'm crinkling my money from the force in my hands. She quirks a half-smile and I smile back, because she's Katniss, my best friend.

Madge sighs, and it irritates me. "What's your problem?" I ask.

She grimaces at me. "Nothing." But two turns later she leans to mutter something to Peeta, and I can't help but think_ I'm onto you, Madge Undersee_.

Our little game is teetering on the edge of an argument when Finnick says "I'm going to go make sandwiches."

"I'll help." Annie stands quickly and hurries after him; I don't know what that pool did, but they're Annie and Finnick act all chummy - which is only weird because Annie used to practically jump like a skittish deer whenever he made an appearance. It's a little fishy, if you ask me.

Katniss moves towards Peeta, and I can't help but not like it. Common sense dictates she's just evening out the space left by Annie, but there's something more that bugs me. Because Katniss is my best friend I _know _her, and she doesn't easily get comfortable around people, and she doesn't do what she doesn't want to do... so there's something else that's fishy.

"And here we go!" Since this little experiment has caused us to be aware of stupid, useless facts about each other, we all know everyone's preferred sandwich. Annie hands me a ham and cheese sandwich with mayonnaise and mustard.

"Here, Gale." She smiles her strange, cheerful smile and I offer a sort of almost smile and a grunt because that's what I do.

Once Peeta makes it to the retirement home everyone gives up on playing the game. In reality, I have been in a state of 'giving up' since about a half-hour ago, because boredom has crept up on me like semester finals.

Slowly, the others peel off one-by-one. Annie disappears to either go read or put on a bathing suit. At least, that's my guess. As far as I can tell, that's all she ever does when she's not out here with the rest of us. Finnick disappears into our room to do God-knows-what. Madge and Peeta, buddy-buddy that they are, discuss playing ping pong and then leave to make good on their discussion.

Then it's just Katniss and me, like a memory from before.

Katniss has just finished cleaning up the game; she slides the top on the box and goes to put it away in the cupboard that also houses Twister, Monopoly, Trouble, and a variety of other games to occupy bored minds.

"It's been a week since we got here," I say.

"I know." She turns and looks straight at me. Katniss is always honest and straightforward, at least with me.

I sit down on the couch and she joins me, though she keeps a large space between us. That is, it's large to me; I wouldn't mind if she came a little closer. Not that that isn't a potential way to ruin our friendship, or anything. No big deal.

Except that it's a huge deal, and I distract myself by asking a question that's been bugging me for awhile.

"How do you know Peeta?"

Her reaction is not what I expect. She blinks several times, which is so unlike Katniss, and then she actually _blushes. _What is up with that?

My face must give my thoughts away because she immediately closes down, narrowing her eyes and shrugging.

"We went to elementary school together, me and him and Madge. After fifth grade they both transferred into the private school."

"Oh. I was just wondering, that's all."

"Yeah, well, I hardly even know him, I guess. That's all." Katniss and I are best friends, but we spend a lot of our time making fun of the system more than anything else. A close second to our joking is talking about our families and spending time with them, and that is followed by work. Katniss and I worked at the San Diego Zoo for almost two and a half years. We didn't work with the animals themselves - I worked in one of the snack bars and Katniss worked in the gift shop - but it was still pretty amazing.

Despite all the time we've spent together, Katniss and I don't really do a whole lot of discussing our _personal _feelings. I used to be completely fine with that; in fact, my dislike of the idea is a fairly recent development. How am I going to know if Katniss reciprocates my feelings if we can't open up to each other?

Of course I have to remind myself that Katniss may never want to open up, that's just her nature. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.

Or that I can't _try. _

I put an hand on her arm. "You know, I'm really glad we're in this together. Can you imagine what an absolute nightmare this would be by ourselves?" I pause, thinking, and then roll my eyes. "Well, more of a nightmare."

"He's _your _brother," she teases, and I grin.

"I bet there's something out there that could prove that wrong." I start sliding my hand down her arm, towards her wrist when a door slams. Katniss slides her arm out from under my touch and _damn, _I was so close. I'm not sure what to, but it was going to be something.

"Gale, you can do the dishes."

"I didn't realize you were my mom," I snark at Finnick. He's grinning like a madman and doesn't respond to me, instead turning to Katniss.

"You want to go swimming with me and Annie?" Katniss seems to debate for a moment, then nods.

"Why not," she says, standing up slowly. "Coming, Gale?" I roll my eyes.

"I guess I've got dishes to do." Really, I don't want to go down and have to deal with FInnick and Annie. I can handle these people for only so long; I never realized how much I appreciate having time to myself until I was closed into this pig pen with hardly anyone I can stand.

"Right." Katniss disappears into her room, and Finnick darts out the door that leads down the stairs. After a few seconds I let out a groan, then stand and head into the kitchen.

The sandwiches didn't really dirty up anything, but that morning someone had made pancakes, and so there was a dirty griddle and some other stuff sitting in the sink.

I'm not stupid; I know you don't put a griddle in the dishwasher, so I actually have to wash that. Wanting to get that done first, I grumble a little to myself, and then set to work. I'm just finished scrubbing when I hear a door open and then shut. I turn to see who it is, and there's Katniss and Annie; Katniss has a shirt over her bathing suit, and she seems to be upset about something. I guess that it's about that bikini she had been grumbling about yesterday; she wasn't happy that it had gotten packed, she had said, and she never wore it anyways.

I only felt a little guilty that I was happy it had gotten packed, and I was able to see her in it yesterday. But today all I can see is her long legs. _Stop it, Gale, _I tell myself, _that's your best friend. _I turn back around to face the sink.

"Thanks Gale, for doing the dishes," calls out Annie.

"'Course," I respond as I turn on the hot water.

Yeah, cause I just love doing it so much, and it's all from the kindness in my heart. Not.

They finally leave (thank God) and I'm left to rinse of the griddle and do the rest of the dishes in peace.

Ha. That I should be so lucky.

The door opens again but I don't bother to look, thinking if I ignore whoever it is, maybe they'll go away.

"Are you actually doing the dishes?" Oh great, just who I need around right now, Madge and all her superior, 'let's just play nice except for when I want to get a dig at you' nonsense.

"Is it so hard to believe that I can do a bit of work?" I'm still not looking at her. So it startles me when she answers right behind me.

"Oh, I don't know. You have a _look_, though." She pauses. "Here, I'll unload the dishwasher." What? She was just waging verbal war and then she offers to help out? I look to my right and want to ask her how she can start something up and then not finish it, but am surprised to see her actually pulling open the dishwasher and setting to work.

"I have a look?" I ask, feeling offended despite the fact that this prissy rich girl shouldn't bother me at all. "Because I accept that you're probably not acknowledging my attractiveness over those average_, _considerably_ less appealing_ people, what the hell do you mean?" I hope she grasps my emphasis as I set the now-rinsed griddle on the counter.

"Your superiority complex, which is most likely based on feelings of inferiority, manifests itself on your face." She sounds so nonchalant, but the words bite. I scowl; how is this girl getting under my skin?

"My _what? _How can you say I have a superiority complex?" And how can she think I feel inferior? Not only do I have a shitload of skills, but I'm attending the most popular CSU in the fall to prove it. She's absolutely ridiculous!

"Well, I'd say the evidence is all in how you conduct yourself..." It comes off like she's giving an essay, and _God _Madge just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

I turn to tell her to shut up and stop talking like she's so damn knowledgable, but stop short.

_Holy shit. _

She's bending over, in a low-necked tank top no less, to get out dishes from the bottom rack and _holy shit. _

There's only one word that comes to mind, and that. word. is.

_Boobs. _

Now, I find Katniss attractive for a lot of reasons: her nice legs, her face, her hair, her awesome tan. Not to mention her tough personality and desire to take care of her family - like me - and our friendship; we have a definite companionship after all that we've been through.

But I have to say that one thing Katniss does _not _have is a particularly large rack.

Maybe it's because I'm a guy, or maybe it's because Katniss has left me a little frustrated - both sexually and emotionally - but I cannot seem to take away my eyes from Madge's chest. Despite her calm voice, she does seem to be breathing heavily, and unfortunately that is not helping. At all.

Luckily, Madge doesn't really notice that I'm looking at her. She's grabbing all the silverware and sorting it in her hands before standing up straight, and it's then she looks at me. Her straightening seems to break the weird spell that has set over me.

"I don't have a superiority complex, or an inferiority complex for that matter." She shrugs before turning away from me and sliding open the drawer for the utensils.

"You asked." That's all Madge says. I do hear her take in a deep breath, which tells me that I set her more on edge than she'd like me to believe.

"Wish I didn't," I mutter as I finally dry off the griddle and go to put it away. I'm sure that Madge heard me, but she doesn't say anything in response. She turns to look at me.

"I'll load it up, if you wipe down the counters."

"Whatever." I look away from her and start doing as she suggests. I feel weird just going along with her, but I do it anyways. Simply, I don't want to lose my cool - in more ways than one.

* * *

**Holy dishwasher soap, **Batman! Anyways, this is actually the shortest chapter ofthe story so far, but only by a hundred words or so. Let me just say this whole chapter was extremely entertaining to write. Now that we're through with the first chapters, things start to pick up. In the coming set of chapters there's a p_oliceman, a party, a fight, Rory, and an injury,_ but not necessarily in that order. Guess the order if you feel so inclined! Mkay, I'm done talking now, see you next time. C:

_Random Fact: _There are several types of armadillos - e.g. nine banded, six banded - that typically give birth to identical quadruplets. Always.


	8. How to Swim

**Warnings; **Not beta-ed. Also, a Gale who doesn't like football, Finnick as a merman, girlie!time.

* * *

Social Sundae

IIX

How to (Sink or) Swim

* * *

[Annie]

Swimming with Finnick is fun. There's something about him, about how he really appreciates the water. He treats it right.

Swimming with Katniss and the others really proves it; they're not bad swimmers, but they always seem to be fighting the water. Don't they know it will carry you, support you? It's like the ground; it's always there, we just have to remember and let it cradle us. Guide us.

I trust Finnick more now, because I understand him. He asked me if I was scared of him, but I never really was. There's a memory, and Finnick reminded me of it. He still does, a little, but I can look past it.

"Are you getting out?" I ask Katniss. She's been sitting on the steps for the past few minutes, but now she's standing up.

"Yeah." I shrug; Katniss can do what she wants to. I dive under the water and swim to the deep end of the pool. When I come up, Katniss is gone.

"She went inside," says Finnick.

"I know."

Finnick is like two different people. Sometimes he's thoughtful, honest, and caring. But most of the time he doesn't say what he feels and keeps up this sort of... shield, instead. I wonder if he's the former to any of the others, or if it's just me.

I don't like special treatment.

I lean backwards and float for a bit, thinking. Is Finnick just being nice to me because I'm damaged? I think back to when I had friends. There were quite a few of them, actually. I was quiet but pleasant, I like to think. And now... I don't know what I am.

Maybe it's better not to invest in labels.

"What are you thinking?" asks Finnick.

"That I can't define myself." It's an honest answer, but I don't look to see if he believes me or not. It's quiet for several moments, and I feel the water shift and I know he's floating beside me.

"Well, that's not a bad thing, necessarily. You just need to be happy."

He sounds a little bitter and I wonder why. I turn to look at him and he's staring up at the gray-blue sky. "You don't seem very happy," I observe.

"Really." Obviously he knows he's not happy; he's not trying to hide it either. I wonder why that is, but don't ask. I understand that people need privacy.

"It's nice being here." I decide to change the subject. "In the condo. It's almost like an adventure, you know?"

"We're not exactly searching Cairo for the Well of Souls," Finnick points out.

I giggle. "Well, no we aren't. But it's something new, isn't it? And not very common, I think." I frown as I consider this, then shake my head. "Besides, it's very safe in comparison to any sort of Indiana Jones adventure."

Finnick swims to sit on the step, and I join him. "Except it's kind of nuts."

"Are you implying I'm nuts?" It should bother me, because I've heard it before with different words. But it doesn't - I think Finnick understands.

"No! Just all of us together."

It's ridiculous, because there have been many times over the past few months where I've thought myself insane, but coming from Finnick's charming voice it doesn't sound so bad. "I think you just called me nutso," I say very seriously.

Then I splash him.

"Hey, take it back!" I push off from the seat into the middle of the pool and then splash him again.

"No thank you." A giggle escapes me. Finnick looks puzzled for a moment, then laughs and tries to splash me back. Unfortunately for him I duck underwater before he can get to me, so his attempt fails.

"You are no match for my manipulation of the pool!" I exclaim when I rise again.

"Riiiiiight," he says with a bright smile. I take a moment to compare this smile with the ones he offers in a group setting. This one is honest and cheerful, while when we're with the others he is sardonic and hidden. I think again about asking him why he puts up such a front, and again decide against it.

"What is it Annie?"

I pause. I don't want to lie to him about what I've been thinking, but I don't feel like I can tell him the truth either.

"Oh, nothing you need to worry about. This and that." It's only kind of a lie, but I definitely feel guilty. It sits on my chest, and is very uncomfortable. In trade for my lie I say something I wouldn't normally share. "My birthday's in..." I pause to think. And count. "Three days."

"Really!" His eyes widen and then he smiles and I smile back, happy. "How old are you turning?"

"Seventeen," I say.

"That's exciting. I remember turning seventeen..." Finnick is still smiling, and I'm glad the memory doesn't make him sad. Sometimes he looks so sad when we talk, like he's remembering something he wishes he could forget.

I know how that is, and I know I wouldn't want Finnick to feel that way. Or anyone else for that matter.

I lean back and let the water cradle me, and feel comforted by its support.

"My parents are probably upset that they won't have me around for my birthday. I don't think they expected me to be gone so long. Did you think it would be over a week?" I frown when I think of my parents being upset. I consider that I haven't missed them while I've been here, not really. That's more saddening than thinking about them not being around on my birthday. The more I think about it the more I feel guilty, and the feeling won't go away.

Finnick doesn't respond to my statement, and I get out of the pool after several minutes of silence.

I wrap a towel around my waist and then make my way through the garage where Madge and Peeta are playing an intense game of ping pong, and then go upstairs. Gale is watching television, but he doesn't seem that interested.

"What are you watching?" I ask, leaning over and resting my stomach on the back of the couch.

"Umm, something about football, I don't know."

"Do you like football?"

He snorts. "Not really. Hardly."

Then why is he watching football? I've never liked it either, I think distractedly.

"Maybe you could watch something you enjoy," I suggest; it makes sense to me. "That way it would be more fun." He doesn't look at me, but he does start flipping through the channels. I smile, then walk to the bedroom.

When I go inside I see Katniss braiding her hair. She seems to be concentrating very hard.

"That's a really pretty braid," I say softly. It is very impressive, the weaving she does with her hair. I suppose I could do it as well, but I get distracted very easily and it seems like it's complicated.

It looks like I have startled her, because she jolts a little. Katniss turns to look at me.

"Thanks, Annie." I just smile.

"Are you done using the bathroom?" I ask. I don't like the feeling of chlorine on my skin for long periods of time; it doesn't have that slightly gritty feel like sea water, and it doesn't smell very nice.

"Yeah, go ahead." I grab some clothes to change into after my shower and then walk into the bathroom. I shut the door slowly and listen for the click that says it's shut tight.

I strip and then turn on the shower before stepping inside. I scrub vigorously at my skin, trying to get the chlorine smell to go away. When that's done I wash my hair; I wonder about a lot of things while doing so.

I wonder why Gale doesn't ever seem happy. I wonder why Finnick is like two people.

I wonder why we are all here. I'm here for Rory, but I'm beginning to think that everyone else might not have the same reason. Which is silly, because we all know him, and he's our friend - or brother, in Gale's case - and I know people are supposed to want to help out their friends when they're in trouble. I learned it the hard way.

But I'm not supposed to think about that. But lately it always seems to be on my mind.

ss

When I get out I put on my bra and panties and pink tee and white cotton shorts and then I look at myself in the mirror. I don't really expect anything out of the ordinary, and that's what I get. Just Annie. I shrug and lift my hands to my face and cradle my chin in my palms.

I make a few funny faces then reach out and wiggle my fingers. I ignore the long line on my hand, but I still see it and so I put my hands down and walk out of the bathroom.

Madge is laying out on her bed, the pink comforter perfectly even on both sides and the pillows set in the middle. She looks up as I shut the door.

"Are you alright Annie?" She seems concerned.

I smile at her. "Yes, I'm fine." I move to join her on her bed, crawling on and situating myself so that I sit on top of my legs. "Are you okay?"

She smiles funnily at me and says "I'm peachy." Madge pauses for a second. "Did you like _The Picture of Dorian Gray_?"

"Sure," I answer. The door opens and Katniss walks in. "It was pretty good."

"What was pretty good?" asks Katniss.

"_The Picture of Dorian Gray, _apparently." Katniss makes a face.

"You read it?" I feel a little excited when I think about discussing books.

"Unfortunately," grumbles Katniss. It's a kind of upsetting.

"He's a good writer," I say.

"_I've _never read the book," Madge interjects, looking between Katniss and I. "What's it about?"

"A stupid idiot who lets his pride turn to evil." Katniss flops belly-down onto her bed; I watch as her braid slides off to the side of her body. "There are enough stupid idiots in the world that we don't need books about them."

I don't like the idea of debating with Katniss; it seems like it could become dangerous.

"Maybe it's to help them learn from their mistakes - the idiots," I say. Katniss frowns at me, and all I can guess is it's because she doesn't like what I said. But she doesn't say anything in response and just closes her eyes.

Madge sits up and reaches over to the table between our beds and grabs _The Picture of Dorian Gray. _She flips through it in the silence. Katniss and I both watch her and wait.

"So," Madge finally says. "who the _hell _names their kid Basil? Seriously, that's an awful name." She frowns. "If you're naming your child after herbs Sage would be better, or maybe Saffron. But Basil? Ew, no."

The absolute disgust in her voice makes me giggle, and then all three of us are laughing - even Katniss.

"There's a girl named Sibyl," I say. "how about that for a daughter?" I'm giggling as I ask the question. Madge quickly begins turning pages. I'm guessing that it's for proof that such a name exists.

"No," says Katniss, "definitely not." She looks a little, I don't know, weirded out. I laugh.

There's a knock on the door. And then there's another knock.

"What are you guys doing?" It's Gale.

"We're discussing baby names!" I giggle. He slowly opens the door and sticks his head inside.

"Baby names?" He asks. It sounds like he doesn't believe us. Gale looks at Katniss and she slowly rolls over and meets his eyes. It's like she knows he's watching.

"Yeah. We're talking about names from books," she says.

"I thought you didn't want kids?" He looks confused.

She shrugs. "It's just for fun, Gale." She sounds kind of defensive, or something. I look at Madge, curious as to what she's doing. She's still leafing through the book; I wonder if she's even looked up at all since Gale opened the door.

"Are you still looking for Sibyl, Madge?"

"No," she says. "I'm just reading." It looks like she's started in the middle, but I don't tell her that the beginning is probably important. She can read the book however she wants.

I glance back at Katniss and Gale, but they're looking at me and Madge. After a few seconds Gale just shrugs and then shuts the door. I think he said "girls" under his breath before he left.

"That was weird," says Madge, still looking down at the book. She turns the page again, then shuts it and sets it back in its place on the table.

"Gale just gets..." but Katniss doesn't finish her sentence.

"Worried that we're going to hurt you?" Madge says it with a funny grin.

"He's my best friend."

"Why doesn't he like football?" Katniss and Madge both give me a weird look. "He was watching it but then said he doesn't like it." Madge makes a face but doesn't say anything.

"I don't know," says Katniss. It's defensive and final, and no one responds. I move so that I'm sitting criss-cross-applesauce because sitting on my legs has made them hurt a little. Madge lays back down, and looks like she's about to speak when Katniss starts again. "Do you want me to braid your hair, Annie?"

I blink, then smile. "Oh, yes Katniss!" She sits up fully and pats the space in front of her, so I get up and move over to her bed and sit down where she wants me to.

"Sooooo," begins Madge. "I just realized, Annie, we don't know where you came from before!" She makes it sound like it's very important to know this. "Where did you move from?"

Katniss is running her fingers through my hair. "Miami," I say. "In Florida."

"Wow," says Madge. "Did you ever go to Disney World?"

"Yeah. It's a lot of fun. It's really big." People playing with my hair always makes me feel sleepy.

"I bet it's really different here." It's weird having Katniss right behind me.

"Mmmm..." I sort-of agree. "I guess. The beaches are different. The water's colder here, and there are less shells. At least, in La Jolla..."

"La Jolla's pretty nice, but it's really popular." Madge is flipping through _The Picture of Dorian Gray _again. "I bet all the shells get really picked over. Have you been up north yet?"

"Like where?" I yawn at the end of my question. Madge hums while she thinks.

"Oh, Avila, Morro, Monterey. They can get kind of gloomy though."

"Monterey..." mutters Katniss. "Oh, that's where Finnick goes."

"Really?" My mind gets a little less foggy at the mention of Finnick. "I didn't know that." A feeling settles in my stomach; it's uncomfortable and I don't like it at all. I can't name it.

"Yeah," says Madge. She's not reading anymore; she's making eye contact with me and Katniss. She's looking at me strangely, and I wonder what she's thinking. "He lives there. He told us that first afternoon..." She frowns. I shudder a little, remembering that first awful encounter.

It's quiet, then Madge starts up again. I think she wants the silence filled. "There's an aquarium there. I've been once; it's really nice." She smiles at me and I smile back. Katniss' hair weaving is making my mind all cloudy again...

"I like aquariums," I offer. Katniss actually laughs. "I do!" It It sounds a little funny.

"Sorry, I'm not laughing at you!" Katniss sounds really repentant.

"You look dead on your feet - or, not on your feet," giggles Madge. "Do you need a hair tie, Katniss?"

Katniss must have nodded yes, because Madge gets up and goes into the bathroom, then reappears a moment later waving her hand with the hair band.

"Thanks, Madge," says Katniss. I feel her tug on my hair a little more as she wraps it around the end of my braid, then she lets go. "Maybe you should go to bed." She doesn't sound bossy, but it reminds me that she has a younger sister - _Prim_, I think. I've met her before...

I nod and then stand and make my way to the other side of the room. As I'm pushing back the comforter - _and oh, it looks like the sea, all blue-green and glimmery -_ I hear a knock, and when I'm crawling into bed I hear Gale say something about dinner.

The other girls leave and I'm by myself, thinking in those seconds before sleep. But the dark is pulling me under, and I let it take me. I dream that I'm Ariel, the little mermaid and that Katniss and Madge are Flounder and Sebastian which is funny. Finnick is something like Eric, or a merman, or both. I don't think I'll remember the ending the next day. I don't know that it has one.

I do know that it doesn't make sense and it's probably not normal, but it's mine and it's kind of fun and it's one thing I won't worry about when morning comes.

* * *

**I promise** that I do know there's more to _The Picture of Dorian Gray_ than what Katniss says; that's just her opinion! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, particularly the interaction of the girls; they're all so different that it makes things interesting. Annie's incident is revealed before we get back to Gale again. Next chapter we're going to see Madge and Peeta's ping pong game, all the guys together (and alone), as well as what happens after Annie falls asleep!

On a different note, have any of you seen the HG parody music video? It's to that Britney Spears song "I Wanna Go." If you haven't, I recommend you look it up on youtube; it's quite entertaining and put together very well! (;


	9. The Strange Calm

**Warnings; **eh, the usual. I didn't do a final read-through on this, so potential grammatical errors I suppose.

* * *

Social Sundae

IX

The Strange Calm (Before the Storm)

* * *

[Peeta]

Madge is always a fun ping pong partner. We're pretty good friends, so there's no stress of trying to make conversation; Madge is the kind of girl who wants to make everything _work._

"Ha! Point for me!" She exclaims.

"We're not even keeping score, Madge," I say with a grin. "Or are you?" She just shakes her head and laughs while I turn and pick up the ball that I missed.

"It's my serve." She says it like I need reminding, like she doesn't say that every time she gets a point off of me. Madge is just... funny.

"_No?" _She rolls her eyes and I bounce the ball back over the net to her; she stops it with her paddle and takes it in her hand.

"Are you ready for this?"

"Bring it," I laugh. I can't take Madge seriously when she acts like sports are so important to her - she's not the most coordinated girl. And yet, she somehow manages to beat me in ping pong.

Madge serves, and the round begins. We talk as we leisurely bounce the ball between us.

"So," Madge begins, and I can't help but think _here we go. "_I want to know what you think."

I frown as hit the ball. "It's not that big of a deal."

"What you think?" Madge laughs. "Of course it's important." She rolls her eyes, and I laugh at her. "You knew her first, you know."

It's true; Katniss told me she met Gale at the beginning of high school. I don't know what made her volunteer the information, as I didn't ask. I don't want to pry into Katniss and Gale's friendship. I may have known her longer, but it's obvious she's closer to Gale - they're similar in a lot of ways, ways that Katniss and I will probably never be. _I don't think I'll ever frown as much as they have during this past week in my entire life. _I know Katniss' life has been hard, but it sounds like it's gotten better. She's going to San Diego State in the fall, and that's certainly something.

Maybe that's why I don't want to try too hard; when I go to SUNY Purchase in a couple months it's likely I'll never see her again.

"That doesn't mean a lot, Madge." She frowns with determination - whether it's determination to win or to get me and Katniss in a relationship, I don't know. It's probably both, and it's not like I can stop her.

"Sure it does."

I don't ask why, because I'm sure that Madge can come up with reasons that may actually make sense, and I don't want to feel too hopeful about it.

Why do I even like Katniss, anyways? I've been trying to figure it out over the last few days, ever since I realized that my infatuation from years ago has sprung up again stronger than ever. The answer comes to my question easily, and it's startling. She's strong, determined, and mysterious - not to mention physically attractive. Then there are the little things, but I stop my brain before it can get to those and start listing them as well. I don't need that right now, not while I'm trying to win against Madge in ping pong, and definitely not while we're all in this house together.

I miss again, and I see Madge smile before I chase after the little ball. It rolls all the way across the floor, and when I reach it at last I stick my hand out and grab it quickly.

"Peeta?" I don't need to look up to know that it's Katniss; I recognize her voice with an ease that's almost freaky.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be in your way," I apologize. I must've been too busy hurrying after the ping pong ball to hear her open the door from the backyard. Her braided hair is wet and laying over her left shoulder, on top of the fish-printed towel that's wrapped around her body. _Don't think about it, Peeta. _I'm successful. Mostly.

"It's fine," she says as I stand up straight. "Don't... worry about it."

The significant pause in the sentence catches my attention. "What?"

She shakes her head, a typical small frown on her face. "Nothing."

I mentally shrug and physically smile. The corners of her mouth quirk upwards before she heads to the other door that leads to the upstairs part of the house. I watch her go with a smile on my face, until she leaves and Madge starts laughing under her breath.

"I can hear you." I roll my eyes.

"So?" Madge pauses to look around, then she continues. "It's just... you totally like her. It's obvious."

"Shut up."

"Except," she continues as if I hadn't said anything, "Maybe not to her."

Well, that's a relief if there ever was one.

ss

We head upstairs a few minutes after Annie passes through; she looks thoughtful, and doesn't say anything, so neither Madge nor I say anything to her. With Annie it seems that less is always more.

Madge tightens her ponytail as we walk inside, then she stops by a mirror that's hanging on the wall. _Girls. _"Not too bad," she mutters.

"Madge you look fine," I laugh and sigh at the same time before grabbing her elbow and using it to pull her further into the room. She shrugs and silently heads towards the girls' room, slowly entering. Before walking inside and shutting the door Madge turns and gives me a small smile.

I go and plop onto the couch; Gale is flipping through channels as if he can't decide what to watch.

"Were you watching football earlier?" He asks. I'm surprised he's even talking to me, to be honest.

"Uh, yeah." The big thing at the Mellark house is that everyone has a team; it was my dad's idea when we were little. I think it was meant to compensate for the supposed girlishness of baking.

"Oh." He tosses me the remote and stands up, and I guess that's all Gale Hawthorne has to say on the matter.

I don't turn it back to ESPN, but continue flipping through the channels. Nothing catches my eye until I come across something bright. Startled, I quickly go back a couple channels, curious as to what it was. _Oh. _It's Animal Planet, and they're discussing peacocks.

"_-male peacock is the one with the colorful feathers," _the zoologist is saying. "_They use their colorful plumage to attract the females._"

"It's true." Katniss' voice makes me jump a little, and to my surprise she laughs at me softly. "You should pay more attention," she says, "I've been standing here for awhile now." In an action that completely shocks me, she comes around and sits next to me on the couch.

_Don't screw it up Mellark, _my brain shouts at me. _Don't let her attention freak you out. She's just Katniss. _Yeah, except _just _Katniss is hardly _just _anything at all. I swallow and bite the inside of my cheek, completely unsure as to what I should say.

Before I can say anything I realize my feelings must be all over my face, because Katniss' happy expression turns to one of suspicion.

"What?" She asks cautiously, like I'm going to say something bad, or start accusing her of something. I decide to with being honest.

"You look happy, that's all."

Katniss doesn't appear to know what to make of my words. "So?" She shifts so her body is just slightly turned away, but she's still looking over her shoulder at me, so that's something.

Once again I am faced with the ever-troublesome decision of what to say to Katniss. After a moment's deliberation, I end up going with the truth. "It's just different." Okay, so that doesn't sound a whole lot better. I try to elaborate. "You don't seem frustrated, or upset."

Her eyes narrow, but she doesn't argue. Instead, she says something that surprises me. "Well, I'm not."

And that's that. I think that I'll probably never understand what goes on in Katniss' head, but I suppose that I don't need to. She's just Katniss.

It's quiet as we watch the television, and by that I mean Katniss watches the television and I sort-of watch and keep sneaking glances at her to see if she's _actually _paying attention. As far as I can tell, she is.

"How'd you know about the peacocks?" I ask after a bit of silence.

"I used to work at a zoo." Huh. After a moment of consideration, I decide that it sounds like something Katniss might do. "Not with the animals - you need a degree for that sort of thing - but at the gift shop." She pauses and frowns. "That's not really how I know about the peacocks. I'd get discounted tickets and take Prim. She liked to look at the pretty peacocks." She says the last bit with irony in her voice; clearly, Katniss doesn't particularly care for the birds. "Prim was a bit dismayed to hear that the boys were the pretty ones, and not the girls." Katniss actually laughs a little, then continues. "She found a new favorite exhibit after that."

Of course I have to ask. "What?"

"The meerkats," Katniss answers, deadpan.

"Really? I guess they are kind of cute, though," I joke. Katniss rolls her eyes.

"_Yes_, really. I swear I still see peacocks everywhere." She motions at the television. "Case in point."

"Bet you sold lots of fluffy toy ones at the gift shop, too," I say with a grin. By the way her mouth quirks in a smile, I guess that I'm right.

"Something like that," she mutters.

With the exception of the zoologist and the deep-voiced narrator, it's silent after that.

ss

Eventually Katniss leaves to the girls' room, and it's just me and Gale in the living space. I don't want to provoke Gale - which seems to be a very easy thing to do - but I'm curious as to what he's been doing in the kitchen this whole time. So instead of speaking I turn of the tv, stand up, and walk over to where he's banging something around.

"Are you cooking?" I ask, just a little surprised.

"Don't sound so incredulous," Gale snarks, but I think he sounds kind of pleased with himself.

"I didn't mean to." I try to wave the white flag. "What are you making?"

Gale doesn't respond verbally, but points to the bag on the counter that says "FRANKIE'S BEST FROZEN FISH STICKS - 100% REAL FISH" on the front of it. It's not my most observant moment.

"Oh. Okay." I don't ask him if he needs help; even I know it doesn't take a lot to heat up the oven and pop something inside. Instead I rummage through the cabinet and pull out a bag of Doritos.

"Healthy," Gale remarks when he sees me set it on the counter.

"Yeah, well next time you see a garden let me know." I don't feel like getting into it with Gale, but that doesn't mean I'm going to put up with a ton of shit from him.

A door opens and then shuts; I turn and see that Finnick has now joined us.

"Hello, gentlemen," he says with that grand voice he takes up sometimes. I really don't get him, which I guess isn't that big of a deal.

Gale grunts and I nod at Finnick before heading to the fridge. I look inside before grabbing a can of Coke and popping it open.

The oven beeps, and Gale slides the fish sticks inside. Then he takes a seat at the island, and an awkward silence ensues.

I wiggle the tab on my soda can until it comes off. Finnick sticks a hand in the bag of Doritos and pops one in his mouth.

"Hey, where's Annie?" Finnick asks. I've pretty much gotten over my initial suspicions of Finnick in regards to Annie, but their strange friendship still strikes me as odd; I usually forget until moments like these, when he mentions her when she's not around.

"She went straight to the girls' room when she came up here," says Gale. He pushes his bangs out of his face and grabs a Dorito.

"Okay, perfect." That sounds really weird, and I can't help but wonder where this is coming from. His question and his statement together don't seem right at all. "So, Peeta, you bake, right?"

"Uh, yeah. My family owns a bakery." Mellark Bakery in La Jolla, to be precise. I don't really think that Finnick cares about that, though.

"Do you think you could make a birthday cake? For Annie?"

Gale blinks. "What, are you trying to surprise her? D'you think she'd actually _like _that? She's kind of..." Finnick's entire face practically warns Gale to finish that thought very carefully. "skittish, sometimes."

Finnick actually huffs. "I'm not planning on throwing her a party, I just thought a cake might be nice." He turns back to me. "So, d'you think you can do it?"

The idea of making an entire cake is really exciting; at home I usually only frost, and I have to do what my mom says. But I would get to choose all the details here. "Yeah, definitely." Then I realize something - something important. "Uh, it's not tomorrow, right?"

Finnick shakes his head, and I ease a little. "Nah, three days."

"That's plenty of time," I grin. I can't help but think this is going to be awesome. My supplies would be limited to what was in the kitchen, but that wasn't really a big deal - I knew we had all the important stuff already.

Before I can find some paper and something to write with, there's a set of beeps. Without a word Gale stands and makes his way over to the oven, where he puts on some floral-printed gloves and then proceeds to take the fish sticks out of the oven.

As soon as he shucks his gloves Gale points to the door that leads to the girls' room, and then heads over there. Not long after he returns to the island, joined by Katniss and Madge.

"Annie's asleep," offers Madge as her and Katniss sit down. Gale grabs some stuff from the fridge, then reclaims his seat.

"There's ketchup and tartar sauce - and also some Doritos."

Katniss smiles at Gale, and I can't help but feel a little jealous. "Thanks, Gale."

"No problem." Then everyone starts reaching for the food, hunger silencing the group for awhile. I don't know what everyone else is thinking about, but my mind is all over that cake. We have ingredients for frosting as well as food coloring, so that won't be an issue. Flavors, however, might be limited. I don't know if there's any cocoa powder, but I do know that we have vanilla extract for sure. If all else fails, I can make a vanilla on vanilla cake with really colorful frosting. But then I face another issue - I don't really know what Annie _likes. _

I wait to ask this until we start cleaning up - like most nights it's a fairly simple task, as the cookie sheet can be put in the dishwasher and we used paper plates. I briefly wonder what I'm going to use for a cake stand before I ask Finnick my question.

"Do you know what she likes?"

"Who?" Madge asks curiously as she wipes down the island.

"Annie," Finnick supplies. He's putting soap in the dishwasher so I can't see his face, but clearly he doesn't mind if others know about the cake.

"It's her birthday in a few days," I say, "and I'm going to make her a cake. I just don't know what to put on it. She reads, I know, but what?"

"_The Picture of Dorian Gray_," two voices supply simultaneously; apparently Katniss has been listening from the couch.

"Maybe something happier?" I suggest, and they all nod. I've read the book, and while it would provide plenty of inspiration I'm not sure that that's the ideal birthday cake design for Annie.

It's quiet as everyone thinks. Finally, Finnick gives me something more pleasant to work with. "She likes the beach," he says with a small smile before heading into our room. It's strange, because his facial expression looks _natural _for once.

It's quiet for a second and I search for a piece of paper and a pencil; I want to start planning out this cake in greater detail. "If it's her birthday," Madge pipes up, "then maybe we should do something fun!" I open one of the cabinets and find what I'm looking for. _Bingo. _

"Like what? Play _Monopoly?_" Sarcasm is thick in Gale's voice. Madge just rolls her eyes.

"She likes to swim..."

Madge nods at Katniss. "But that's something she does every day. Oh, I don't know..."

"There are water balloons downstairs - we should have a water balloon fight!"

"D'you think she'll like that?" I ask as I take a seat back at the island. Gale's the one who mentioned Annie's skittish nature earlier, and yet he's suggesting a water balloon fight?

"It could be fun," says Katniss.

"That settles it then." Gale sounds a little smug, like he's pleased to have come up with the idea. I look up from the paper and glance at Madge; she's frowning, but doesn't protest. In about two seconds she's walking into the girls' room - and then it's just the three of us.

I look back down at my paper and get back to work, effectively tuning out any voices. There aren't any round cake pans, so I'm going to have to go with rectangle sheets. I draw out two layers, because even though one would feed all of us there's a certain aesthetic appeal that comes with a tall cake. I'm about to start labeling flavors when there's another door shutting.

Wondering who left, I look up and see that it's just Katniss standing there, hand gripping the back of the couch and looking towards the door that shut. I can't figure her expression, but the sight of her there, standing by herself, distracts me enough so that I spend a moment or two looking at her.

Her long, dark hair is braided as usual, and she's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. To me, she looks amazing.

"Peeta?"

"Sorry - I was just going to ask you - do you think think we have a cake stand here?"

She frowns in thought before turning towards the cupboards. "I can check right now." I follow her, and she opens the cabinet doors. "I don't think we do, sorry." She shuts the doors and looks at me. "The one thing this place doesn't have." s

"I don't think Rory was expecting me to bake," I say jovially, "it's no problem. I can just use a platter."

Katniss shrugs. "Did you decide on a design yet?"

I know she means for the cake. "Yeah." I go to the island and pick up my paper. When I look back and see that she's watching me, I motion for her to come over. When she's an arm's length away from me I push the paper out between us and point at my drawing.

"I'm thinking of doing part of it cream-ish yellow-ish color, which is the closest I'll get to sand, and then the rest of it blue like the ocean. Then there's going to be a sand dollar and a starfish on the beach, and it'll say 'Happy Birthday Annie!' on the ocean part." I glance at Katniss, whose gaze seems to be flickering between me and the paper.

"You've really thought this out."

I can't tell if she she means it in a good way or not. "I want it to come out good. For Annie."

She just smiles. Katniss could think that it's creepy to care, or maybe she thinks it's sweet. Like most things involving Katniss, it's a mystery.

Katniss departs to the couch, where she turns on the tv and begins clicking through the channels. I'm tempted to go sit by her, but I feel like I should sort out ingredients. I turn back to my paper and barely hold back a sigh of frustration; it's going to be a long night.

* * *

**Sorry** for the wait, I've just been really, really busy. I've already started the next bit, which is going to be very hectic; I'm quite eager to write it! It just all depends on time. I'm in the process of beginning a very new and very exciting chapter of my life, and so that is going to suck up a lot of the ever-important time. Thanks to you lovely people who stick it out for my peculiar story. C:


	10. Surprise, Surprise

Warnings: Uhm, mentions of blood.

* * *

Social Sundae

X

Surprise, Surprise (Crash, Bang!)

* * *

[Madge]

My brow is furrowed as I concentrate on the strange palette before me. _Red, __green, __there__'__s __a __turquoise..._I pick up the turquoise colored balloon and roll it between my fingers before placing it in its proper pile. There are seven different colors - more than we need, but I figure that we can save them for another time. It amazes me how _prepared _this place is; the only way I could liken it to Survivor would be the social aspect. As far as that goes, this place might as well be a jungle.

"What are you _doing_?"

I rest my case.

"I'm organizing the water balloons by color," I answer nonchalantly. I don't even glance at Gale, so focused am I on the process. The greens and the turquoises are rather similar. I know that it's silly, but it's given me something to do, at least. My mind wanders to all the summer work I'm going to have to do when I go home; I wish Rory had thought to pack it.

"Why the hell would you do that?"

"It's so that everyone has their own personal color for the water balloon fight later today- that was _your _idea, remember?" There's a bit of bite to it, but I _am_focusing, and while I could do my work and verbally spar with Gale at the same time I don't really want to. He's kind of unsettling.

"I didn't say we needed to divide up the balloons based on color." _There__'__s __another __green, __and __here__'__s __a __yellow._

I just shrug and Gale huffs. "Do you have a problem, Madge?" Sorting the last balloon in my hand - a pink one - I grab another handful from the overstuffed bag of water balloons and wait for Gale to elaborate.

"Well?"

"No, I don't have a problem, why?" I continue my sorting, wondering if he's going anywhere with this or if he's trying to wind me up. If it's the former, I'm at a loss as to what it is he's aiming for. If it's the later, it'll probably start working if he keeps at it.

"Do you really need me to answer that? Look at what you're doing!" I pause, finally look at a very ruffled Gale, and purse my lips.

"I'm sorting the balloons, and I didn't _ask_for your opinion on it. You can just run along, okay?" Offering him a sarcastic smile, I make a 'go thither' motion with my free hand. Ugh. He just really bugs me.

Gale huffs again. "Fine. Whatever. Keep being ridiculous, whatever." I raise my eyebrows but say nothing, and just watch him as he walks away.

I wonder when he'll catch on to the fact that not everyone answers to him and his preconceived notions.

ss

"How's it going?" Peeta is bent over Annie's birthday cake, hard at work. He started baking it a few days ago, and it's been a group effort to keep Annie out of the kitchen while he's working on it. Usually it's not too hard; Annie loves to swim, and she spends a lot of her time out at the pool. Typically, she's with Finnick, and when she's on her way back up one of us in the game room will hurry to alert Peeta to hide away his work.

"I'm almost finished." He breaks from his concentrated frown to look up and smile at me. "Just about ready to write out the words."

I walk beside him and glance over Annie's cake. "It's looks great, Peeta!"

He glances at me with an unsure expression, and I can't help but wonder what put that on his face. "Katniss thinks so too." Peeta speaks the words with an almost shy demeanor.

"Does she now?" I've been trying to stop my mentioning of Katniss to Peeta over the last few days, because I've come to realize that it's been bothering Peeta. I don't want to be a pest, but i can't help but want my friend to be happy. Knowing Katniss, she definitely deserves someone better than He-Man Gale.

Perhaps referring to Gale as a caveman is a bit extreme; after all, he hasn't started a fight with Peeta yet. His spotless fight record notwithstanding, there are still so many peculiar and offensive things about the way he conducts himself that I believe Gale needs to sort himself out before he spends any more time mooning over Katniss.

"She said so not five minute ago." Peeta shoots me a sly look. "You must have been really busy fighting with Gale not to notice."

The only response I offer is a frown.

"When d'you think you'll be ready, Peeta?" Finnick joins us and leans on his elbows as he peers curiously at the cake.

"Not too long; I'm about to do the writing." He holds up the piping bag in his hand to prove his point. Finnick beams.

"Great! Annie's in the her room. I don't know what she's doing though." He looks at me, as if I'm an all-access pass to the knowledge of the female mind and recreational activities.

"I can go check. Or maybe I should just wait until Peeta's finished; then we all can sing Happy Birthday."

Finnick looks like's about to say something in protest, but then changes his mind. "Whichever."

"I'm finished now." I turn to look over Peeta's shoulder; _Happy __Birthday __Annie!__' _extends across the blue ocean in a cheerful yellow. I've always known that Peeta has skill in the kitchen, but his speed still surprises me.

"Wow, that was fast." Finnick's words echo my thoughts. "Are there candles?"

Peeta shakes his head in the negative. "No, or not enough for the age she's turning, at least. I'm just going to put one in, like a light house."

"It's _fine_, Peeta. You did great." I beamed at him.

"How about I go get Annie, and you round up the others?" Finnick looks at me, and I'm surprised by the authority in his voice. I don't want to argue with him, so I just nod.

_The __others _includes Gale, so I go knock on the door to the guys' room first; I try to treat Gale the same way I would a band aid that needed to be removed.

"What?" I hear the through the door. Putting on my best 'no-nonsense' face, I turn the knob and open the door.

"Finnick's going to bring Annie out now," I say as I look at Gale. "We're all going to sing her 'Happy Birthday'." Gale's fiddling around in the closet - I can't identify his actions specifically.

He slowly meets my eyes. "Right," is all he says before shutting the closet door and making his way towards me. I back out of his way and together we turn towards the center of the living area. I see that Katniss is already standing by Peeta. Peeta is smiling and I can't make out Katniss' expression exactly.

There's only one candle on the cake, and Peeta lights it just as Finnick brings Annie out of our room with his hands over her eyes.

"Here we are," Finnick says cheerfully. He removes one hand from its place covering Annie's face to countdown for us to sing.

_Three...__two...__one. _He moves his other hand out of Annie's line of vision, and the five of us begin a very unharmonious rendition of "Happy Birthday." I can't bring myself to look at Annie until after we've finished, and so I keep my gaze trained on that one candle.

Once it's over I chance a glance - Annie is flushed, and part of me worries that she's going to rush back into our room. My heart clenches - what if it's too much?

But to my relief, it's only a moment before Annie's face splits into a shy smile.

"Thank you."

Finnick nudges her gently. "You've got to blow out the candle, Annie."

Her eyes widen as if she has completely forgotten. She closes her eyes and bends forward, blowing out the one candle quickly.

"Right, here we go-" Peeta begins slicing the cake.

"The cake is beautiful; who made this?" Annie asks quietly.

"Peeta did." Katniss smiles at him with an expression I can only describe as 'fond'; it's a strange thing to see on her face, but it makes me happy.

I chance a glance at Gale, but he's not even looking at Katniss and Peeta, but at me.

He quirks a brow - something that I only wish I could do - and says nothing.

"First slice is for the birthday girl," says Peeta, handing the plate to Annie. She smiles sweetly at him in response, but doesn't say anything.

The rest of the cake is distributed fairly quickly, and we eat in near-silence. We all pause at one point or another to assure Peeta of his culinary success; his humility is obvious, but he does smile at our praises.

There's plenty of leftover cake after we're finished, so Katniss begins to package it away.

"So, Annie, do you want to go down to the pool?" asks Peeta. Confused, I turn to where my sorted balloons had been sitting, only to find them gone.

"What, all of us?" Annie sounds surprised, and I understand; Gale, Peeta, and I do not frequent the pool as often as the other three.

Annie looks at me curiously, and I deduce that she's thinking the same thing as me.

"Sure, if you don't mind us taking over your... space."

Annie actually rolls her eyes. "It's not my pool. Let's go."

We follow obediently to the stairwell and through the garage to the pool. I get a strange feeling, because I know someone's plotting...

_Splash! _The left side of Finnick is positively soaked. I realize that Gale had disappeared early; he must have filled the balloons. I quickly spot them in a pile by the water spigot, all mixed up. I don't have a lot of time to contemplate my wasted work before I'm distracted by Finnick rushing to grab an armful of balloons and lob one at Gale. Annie squeals, but she's grinning, which I take to be a good sign. Katniss launches for balloons as well, Annie and Peeta quick on her heels. That leaves me as the only one unarmed, and soon I'm following after the others.

As I'm leaning over to collect my weapons, I feel the impact of the balloon and my shirt growing wet. I turn to see Katniss smirking slightly. This sparks something in me, and I begin to do my best to soak the others. My hand-eye coordination is lacking, but luckily there are five targets for me to aim for; this improves my chances of success to approximately fifty-fifty for each throw I attempt.

I'm not the only one with less-than-spectacular aim; Annie manages to land a few un-popped balloons on the roof, and Peeta gets one or two in the pool. The longer we fight, the more the thought of a long clean up process tickles the back of my mind; it's going to be _so_much work. Luckily I don't think on it too much, as I spend most of my time dodging and tossing.

Finnick has climbed a tree close to the roof; as the sun weaves in and out of the clouds, so does my ability to look at him without being blinded. It's actually pretty clever, as it's a strong advantage point. Not that he really needs it, it's just a game.

"Yes!" Katniss manages to get Finnick; she has really good aim. She nails Peeta quickly afterwards, and I realize she's making a circle.

_Move __move __move! _Adrenaline gives me a constant kick to move and be aware, and I wonder how long it will last because it's utterly insane. Annie is constantly squealing, Gale and Peeta are muttering expletives, and I'm silent as I make my slightly pathetic attempts at attacks; it feels as if the game could go on forever.

Eventually, though, the water balloon fight does wind down as we run out of ammunition, and with it so does our energy. Gale leans against the side of the condo, Peeta and Katniss both dangle their feet in the water, and Annie is floating in the pool. Finnick is retrieving a few of the balloons that landed on the roof while I idly pick up a few of the elastic pieces strewn all over the yard, not really paying attention.

Then all of the sudden there's a horrific _crack_, and before I can process the noise it's quickly followed by a splash. I whirl around, and my heart falls into my stomach. Finnick is floating in the water, a murky red cloud beginning to sprout from his head.

_Oh, __God. _For an indeterminable moment I freeze, visions of my ill mother swarming into my mind, suffocating it. It's another splash that startles me from my temporary paralysis: Peeta has jumped into the water and Gale helps him haul Finnick out of the pool. They have him sprawled out on the grass, and the sight sends the blood rushing in my ears.

"He's not breathing," Gale says. This strikes me with something that's not really inspiration, but close.

"Let me." I kneel over Finnick in a manner that would have made me uncomfortable in any other situation; the current one nulls this feeling, however, and I'm glad that it's the last thing from my mind. I need to _focus_ if I'm going to help Finnick.

All of my CPR training takes over, and I thrust the heels of my hands into his chest exactly how I was instructed. _Nothing. _But it can't be nothing -

I see my mother in my mind's eye.

I start again, and by the power of God water jumps out of his mouth. Finnick sputters a little, and then begins to breathe. It doesn't sound like he's struggling too much with effort, and so I let loose the breath I hadn't known I'd been holding and roll off of Finnick.

I finally look around; Gale is kneeling with the first-aid kit and Peeta is trying to guide Annie out of the water. She appears to be in shock and I can't look any longer.

"He's breathing." It comes out of my mouth in a hushed rush and I look at Gale. He nods and opens the white box.

"Gauze?" He suggests. I nod and he holds it out to me; perhaps, in another life, I might be surprised by his deference, but it doesn't really register. I take the gauze and just barely move Finnick's head in search of the source of the blood. The gash is behind his right ear, underneath all of that bronze hair. I press the gauze to it and say nothing.

"The ambulance is on its way," Katniss appears out of nowhere.

"How did-" She jerks her thumb over her shoulder at the fence that separates us and the next condo over.

"They wanted to come, but I told them it'd cause more chaos." I nod slowly, my mind unable to process the jarring turn of events.

"Maybe we should move Finnick to the front-"

"No," I cut off Gale swiftly and with a monotone voice that sounds nothing like myself. "They'll come back here. We shouldn't move him anymore than we already have without an official." I'm simply mechanical, repeating information I'd learned over the years.

Gale and Katniss both nod; Katniss quickly moves to be with Peeta and Annie. I still can't bear to look at Annie, some sense in me knowing it would break my heart. Instead I turn my eyes back to Finnick, listening for sirens.

Paramedics arrive before too long, and they safely move Finnick to the ambulance. Somehow, someone does some convincing to get Annie in with him. I don't say anything, but as soon as I see Finnick safely removed I look back at the spot he had previously occupied. In a strange flash I see my mother lying there; my heart leaps and my body jolts, but I cannot look away. I stare for some indeterminable amount of time, until a voice breaks me from my trance.

"Madge." I look at Gale, who's gazing at me with an odd expression. "Rory's on his way, we're going with him to the hospital."

"Okay." I follow him towards the gate at the end of the fence that wraps around the side of the condo. As I'm about to pass the corner of the condo I pause, but am unable to bring myself to dispel my fear.

Now that I've managed to tear my eyes from the spot, I can't look back. It's as if, subconsciously, I'm afraid that if I do I'll see that she's still lying there.

"C'mon, Madge." Gale grasps the crook of my elbow and tugs gently. I follow his pull, doing my best to gather my wits about me. "Peeta and Katniss are getting us shoes," he says as we exit the gate; I hadn't even noticed that my feet were bare.

"They are?" I finally look at Gale, surprised by the lack of enmity in his voice. He isn't looking at me, however, but at our surroundings. I belatedly realize that this is the first time we've been outside the condo. The front yard is small, and all dark green grass. The surrounding buildings are all other condos just like ours, neutral-colored and nondescript.

When we've almost reach the sidewalk Gale stops and drops into a sitting position on the lawn. I follow suit at a slower pace, my body unwilling to work in jarring movements.

Katniss and Peeta soon reappear, each of them holding a pair of shoes. Gale slips on his flip flops and I strap my feet into my sandals, my hands doing the work out of sheer muscle memory. I cannot bring myself to reassure the others that Finnick's gash wasn't that deep, or that head wounds always bleed a lot - My mind is still trying to process the day's events; everything changed so _quickly_, and I don't know how to process it all. It's like something out of my worst nightmares - but starring different people.

Apparently I'm not the only one with this problem; no one else speaks as Katniss sits next to me, and Peeta takes a spot on her other side. We are silent in worry and in shock, waiting for news, or some sign. We sit in silence, and wait for Rory.

* * *

**And** this was supposed to be a _humor _fic originally! Hahaha... yeah. I'm sorry this took so long, but you know life. This is actually me rewarding myself for finishing two-thirds of my final paper today (the hard two-thirds, I might mention). I admit that the pieces of these chapters were written some time ago during various boring lectures - today was mostly me flipping through my different notebooks in search of what was supposed to come next. XD I'd like to have Finnick to you before the new year, but as always I can make no promises. I hope all of you are well, and good luck to those of you with finals upon you! c:


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